Nightmare
by Colorful Crayola
Summary: Sequel to Phantasm. It has been almost five years since Nichole has seen Wolf. Her failure to find a proper way to deal with the xenomorphs held by the government has her repeating the incident that Blooded her. If she can reunite with her savior and mentor, it could mean the difference between life or death.
1. Preface

**Hello readers! **

**Here it is, the preface for _Nightmare_, sequel to _Phantasm_! I wasn't originally going to post it until I finished _Better Days, _but a little bird told me that Mincemeats was ill, so I post this on her behalf! Hope you feel better soon you beautiful person!**

**Don't expect chapter one any time soon, maybe by the beginning of May, but that depends on how soon I finish the last chapter for _Better Days. _**

**This was not beta'd, but I read it over several times so hopefully it's still okay to read! I do apologize for any typos or mistakes! And, I'm also sorry about the clarity, but I'm trying to leave most of this a mystery. ;D When we get to this point in the story all will be made clearer. Enjoy it for the time being and look forward to chapter one in the future!**

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Preface

Drenched

Rain fell, a single inescapable sheet of icy water, punctuated by flashes of lightning. Each drop pelted my face with the strength of high-velocity pebbles; it stung my cheeks and flattened my hair against my scalp; it dripped from my forehead and into my eyes. Half-frozen clothes pinched my skin with icy fingers every time I moved. Violent shivers wracked my body—but only some of it from the chill.

Water pooled around me where I was stretched out, partially held up by strong, scaly arms. Though I attempted to scramble away from the black carcass next to me, my feet only slipped in the water and Wolf was an unmovable wall, keeping me in place.

Panic squeezed my heart like a python, constricting my chest and making my stomach churn. I gasped and clawed at my abdomen with one hand, the other scraping around to find Wolf's arm in an attempt to pull myself upright. My mouth worked like a fish out of water and I fought to ignore the taste of bile at the back of my throat.

_What do we do?_

It took me several excruciating heartbeats to realize I hadn't vocalized the thought. My jaw bobbed and for another brief spell I only managed a strangled sound before I found my voice at last.

_"_What do we do?"

In the end I wished I hadn't spoken: my voice was shrill in my ears, slicing through the sound of rain pelting around us. Through the deluge and darkness I could barely make out Wolf's features, but it was his heat that drew me in, the strength that he promised.

My nails dug at the fleshy part of Wolf's bicep. He inclined his head toward me, his mandibles pressed tight over his mouth. His brow was furrowed, his muscles tensed and body rigid. Vibrant green blood mixed with the rain and I remembered—he was hurt, too. Yet he wasn't panicking. He wasn't even showing any pain. What of me?

I had to get a hold of myself.

I couldn't show my fear.

However, dread had sunk its fangs into me. It tore at my insides and drew fresh tears to my eyes. Ah, the rain was a blessing in disguise—it concealed my weeping. It was fear that shortened my breath and clouded my thoughts.

Wolf didn't show such emotions. Never since I'd met him. Why couldn't I be like that? Why couldn't I calm myself?

Every part of me not entrenched in terror was disgusted at how _human_ I was.

At last, Wolf made a move—he growled and swept me up into his arms. I held tight to his shoulder, choking back sobs and gripping the front of my shirt with one hand. My eyes scanned his face, looking for some kind of answer. There was nothing there, nothing that I could read anyway. His expressions were too foreign. Was his mandibles pressed in anger or concern?

"You have to help me you have to do something!" Hysteria won and the words tumbled forth uninhibited. My throat burned and made my voice thick. Each syllable was a kick in the teeth, each breath drawn was a betrayal to myself, to the strength I wished I had.

The rain poured without relent as he moved me to the edge of the roof. I wished the weather would swallow me whole or tear me apart. Anything would be better than _this._


	2. Devil's Show

**Hello readers!**

**Here it finally is, chapter one! Rejoice!**

**I'm going to be trying this thing where I try to write longer chapters, and the build-up is going to be longer than Phantasm' was, so I'm sorry if there's not enough action in the beginning! :D In the long run it's going to make the story longer and have (hopefully) more enriching character development. Enjoy it! :D **

**I can't make any promises on how often I'm going to update, but I hope not to keep everyone waiting! So, please try to refrain from reviews like "update soon" as I am going to try to be punctual with the chapters! Thanks in advance! That being said, though, I appreciate all of the support from my fans! Keep being awesome!**

**~ Crayola**

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Chapter One

Devil's Show

Not a single piece of my lunch was chewed. The whole turkey sandwich was inhaled in less than two minutes. I pushed away from the table as soon as it was gone, my chair screeching against tile. Devon stared at me from across his desk, his fork raised and ready to deliver his first bite of leftover lasagna. It had taken him the full length of my sandwich-eating to heat it up.

"Why're you in a hurry?" He finally stuck the bite in his mouth.

"Just wanna go see the xenos." I glanced over my shoulder at him, but otherwise wasted no more time.

His chair scraped on the floor behind me and his Tupperware lid popped as he snapped it back into place. Footsteps reached me and I caught a glimpse of him jogging. I groaned inwardly. "Finish your lunch, Devon."

"Maybe I want to see them, too." He grinned when he fell into stride next to me. "I'll finish it later. These are the things that you had to fight when you were a teenager, right?"

Memories stirred, but I squashed them like a bug under my heel. "Yes."

He nodded and let it drop. Devon was four years my senior, but had been transferred to the "X-File"—as he called it—branch of the FBI around the same time I had finished training. We were assigned as partners soon after.

His mouth worked for a moment, and then he sniffed. "Well I haven't seen them yet. You go down there so often, though. Why?"

I pushed the button for the elevator and crossed my arms. "Just like seeing them caged."

"Makes you feel vindicated?"

"Something like that," I murmured, stepping inside the elevator as it opened. I couldn't tell Devon that I was down there waiting for an opportunity, scouring the security and trying to figure out how I could eradicate the abominations they were keeping caged. I had an eye on the security in the observation room, but not yet the lab.

Devon hit the button for the first basement. There were a few different basements, each dedicated to its own labs and teams for specific extraterrestrials. I was only allowed on the level with the xenomorphs.

Sometimes, though, I was a little curious about what other aliens they might have locked up.

One of them had to be for Wolf's kind, the "predators". An entire taskforce was dedicated to finding them: every decade or so they showed up to hunt and harvest humans for trophy kills.

And yet, knowing that, I could not condemn Wolf. He had saved my life when he could have left me to rot or killed me. He hadn't treated me like a damsel in distress, though. He'd given me the means to protect myself.

That had been five years ago. I felt so disconnected from him now, like I had no place by his side as I once had.

If I stared at the xenomorphs long enough, maybe I'd feel that connection again.

With a resolute ping, the doors shut and we started to descend. Like each elevator ride I'd taken for the past week and a half, my heart rate increased and my stomach knotted itself.

"Are they learning a lot about them?" Devon asked.

"I guess. I haven't really been asking questions."

"Not that curious?"

Shaking my head I said, "No. The only thing I need to know is that they're dangerous. They shouldn't be keeping them alive."

"You scared they're gonna get out?" I couldn't tell if he was kidding or being serious.

"Maybe."

Our ride ended and the elevator spit us out. I strode ahead of Devon, eyes facing forward with the intensity of a sniper trained on its target. My feet carried me out of instinct. They knew the path by heart: every free chance I was given was spent in the basement, watching the aliens as they went about their business.

It had been years since I had seen them, since I had fought for my life against them. The memories and scars were still fresh in my mind, but had healed enough that the resident counselor had decided it was okay if I visited occasionally. At first they were afraid I would have a mental breakdown.

Though it took several missions for them to realize it, it was better late than never.

I swiped my badge and the door unlocked. Devon swiped his as well, to log his access for the files, then followed after me. A lone worker glanced up at us, but paid us no mind otherwise.

The observation room had only a few computers in it, mostly backup security in case the lab was compromised. One wall was made completely of glass, overlooking the large lab. Only a section of it was for equipment and tables—lined with test tubes and files and weird chemicals—while the majority was taken up by a large cage comparable to a one-story house. It, too, was made mostly of glass, or a similar material. A handful of scientists milled about, watching and recording info.

Inside, I could hear them. Their screeches reverberated through the air, though muffled by the glass and the distance. Seeing them, however, was difficult. They had the cage converted into their nest, something I had been told had taken them only days to complete.

"Where are they?" Devon asked, leaning against the window and twisting his head to get a better look. "They sure are making a racket."

"They're in there." The words weren't spoken so much as they were a single breath.

Resin coated every inch of the cage save for a small section at the front, treated to prevent anything from sticking to it and creating a viewing window. A camera was mounted at each corner and fed directly to a set of CCTV's in the observation room. It ensured that the xenomorphs never went unobserved. Constant surveillance was the reason there had not been any accidents or breeches in the years they were held captive.

That, and the treatment used to keep their acidic blood from burning an escape hole.

The dark shapes within tended to remain dormant the majority of the time, blended into the walls and waiting. However, something had them awake.

Devon and I watched the viewing window. Inside, the screeches turned into strange thumps. I held my breath, waiting for them to appear in the clear glass. They didn't always, but I remained for my entire break time, waiting to catch even a glimpse. Usually someone was posted at the monitors, and I hated hovering over someone's shoulder to watch them.

Besides, the live feed wasn't clear all the time.

Then, our only warning a single squeal, a black serpentine shape slammed itself against the glass with a sickening sound. Devon leaped away from the window, uttering a swear. It was followed by another xeno, and then a third. They battered themselves three more times, one right after the other. Each time made me twitch, my fingers flex. Devon stood back, one arm held up.

"What the _fuck_," he uttered. I glanced at him; his eyes were wide and his jaw was hanging open. He noticed my gaze and turned toward me, his brow furrowing. He was looking at me like he'd never seen me before.

I sighed and turned back to the aliens testing the glass. "Yeah. I know."

"What are they doing?" he asked at last, coming to stand next to me and peer at the bodies throwing themselves at their wall. Though there were only a few we could see, I knew there were more. They were scrambling around the darkened edges of the tempered walls confining them.

Each screech and slam was muted first by the walls of the cage, then by the layer of glass separating the observers from the main lab. Anyone outside of the science team wasn't allowed inside and had to watch from observation instead. Each attempt at escape caused me to step closer to the emergency pane. On it was a single red button with a plaque that read "Flash" in bold, red letters. I was always nearby that button, ready to push it at a moment's notice and level the lab.

All I needed was a reason.

Something always kept me from hitting it, though—perhaps because it was supposed to be impossible for them to escape. Maybe because there was always at least one witness around.

Another drone slammed against the wall, then dragged its claws down the glass with an ear-splitting ring. Devon flinched next to me, his palms pressed against the glass and eyes locked on the aliens inside.

"They've been getting restless lately."

The new voice startled the two of us and we whirled around, like children being caught with our hands in the cookie jar. When we saw it was one of the scientists, we relaxed. Devon said, "Restless about what?"

"We think they've been looking to expand the nest ever since we started giving them more hosts." Doctor Steven Shepard was the overseer of the facility. His sandy hair and perpetually-squared shoulders made me think he was related to my father. "They stopped reproducing weeks ago and have been eating the possible hosts we bring in. Needless to say we couldn't let them keep eating the innmates so we stopped providing them hosts."

It was still a mystery to me how they were allowed to use humans as hosts, even if they were slated to die in a prison. Being a host to those abominations was cruel and unusual punishment.

They said it was in the name of "science." It was a load of bullshit.

"You are. . .Nichole Shain and Devon Hart, right?" Doctor Shepard asked, one hand in his pocket.

I nodded. "Yes. I hope it's okay that we're down here. I like to watch them."

When he was scrutinized, Devon shrugged. "I'd never seen them before. Kinda wish I could still say that, to be honest."

"They are fascinating, if ugly." The doctor walked up to the window with us. "If you weren't allowed in here your cards wouldn't have worked, so you're welcome to stay so long as you don't interfere with our work."

Devon pressed closer to me, resting his hand on my shoulder, and I glanced toward him before turning my gaze back to the cage to watch the creatures flit about. "Of course not."

"How many are in there?" Devon asked. He didn't bat an eye when I moved out from under him.

The xenos in the cage were a little different than I remembered, save for a handful of them born of human hosts. Those born from animal hosts were streamlined for speed instead of combat, lithe and quadruped with dark, rust-colored exoskeletons instead of obsidian. They were smaller, too, even if it wasn't by much. Reports insisted that they were all the same level of intelligence, but it had to be hard to measure without proper IQ tests.

Doctor Shepard said, "One queen, four warriors, and a dozen drones. That's on top of the three and a half dozen eggs."

"Haven't you had them for a few years now? Shouldn't there be more?"

My eyes flit through the lab while Devon asked his questions. There was always at least five people hard at work and the way inside the cage was a set of two doors. The first was unlocked from the outside, allowing one or two people in. Then, they were locked in by someone on the outside. Once locked, the idiots venturing into the cage could open the second door that led directly into the hive.

Hopefully they were all sedated when someone entered. The lab had so many checks and balances, though, I wasn't sure how I was supposed to hope to get inside. First I'd have to sneak into the lab, and then I'd have to get inside the hive somehow. . . .

The only thing I could think of was stealing a keycard and then killing those in the lab.

Flashing it would certainly be easier, but without a proper reason to hit the button there would be consequences, and I was against killing five strangers for no reason.

Punishment wasn't the only thing deterring me, though. Once the aliens were dead, I would need only call Wolf and I would be taken far away from Earth. _If_ his offer still stood._ If_ he even remembered that I was here.

_If_ I even still wanted to go.

It had been so long. . . .

No, it wasn't the thought of penalty that stayed my hand—it was how _wrong_ it felt. There would be no satisfaction in killing the xenomorphs while they were caged, and there was no honor in killing unarmed scientists. I had promised Wolf I would be a better warrior when next we met, not a coward. I needed trophies, and the one thing I had learned from the predator taskforce was that trophies were earned from an honorable fight. I was filled with uncertainty, though.

How was I going to pull that off without endangering the entire complex?

Did it even matter? I needed to decide if I still wanted to join Wolf in the first place.

"We were only cleared to start conducting host trials a year ago. Before that we were doing tests on the corpses of other xenomorphs and what eggs we could get out of the nest, once a queen was chosen." There was a collective wince when another drone smashed into a wall.

I turned to the doctor. "How do you get the eggs?"

He indicated to a computer down in the laboratory. "We can put them to sleep using a very heavy sedative. They're carbon-based thanks to the genetic patch job they use during gestation, so our tranquilizers do work at high dosages."

"Genetic patch job?" Devon, again.

"When in gestation—that is, after the parasitoid implants larva into a host—the fetus attaches to a major artery in the chest cavity and receives nutrition." Doctor Shepard indicated vaguely to his own chest with a sweeping gesture. "However, it also uses this as a means to transfer DNA to its own genetic make-up, which is why the drones in there look different from the warriors. They were born through goats instead of humans. I don't have the x-rays with me or else I'd show you."

"I always thought of them as facehuggers and chestbursters."

The doctor chuckled. "Those are pretty accurate, if basic."

My gaze shifted from the drone rubbing its face against the glass, testing it, to Doctor Shepard. "Do all the xenos from animal hosts become drones? Are humans the only proper hosts for warriors?"

"No." He scratched the side of his nose. "The queen here was actually born from a cow. Those xenomorphs we caught in the forest were two drones and a warrior. It was one of those drones that implanted the cow. Most of those in there are actually implants from the two drones we started with. We're not really sure what dictates which fetus will become which role quite yet."

Hart leaned back, eyes wide. "They don't need a queen to reproduce?"

Doctor Shepard nodded. "To an extent, anyway. The one drone infected a cow and three goats, the other infected two goats. We think they have a limited number of fetuses, used only if a queen is not present. . .to ensure the continuation of the species."

"Is that what you meant when you said a queen was 'chosen'?" I was now facing completely away from the lab, both eyes on the doctor. Since figuring out that they weren't going to get out, the drones had ceased activity. All of this information seemed unimportant, but perhaps I could learn something useful.

"Yes. She was born a warrior, along with two others from the goats. Of course, she came from a much larger mammal so she had a distinct advantage. After all of the new xenomorphs were matured, they started fighting." He paused to walk away from the window and sat at a set of computers.

Devon followed after him, but I remained where I was, body turned to listen.

"The drones didn't do any fighting, but the warriors were vicious. Two of them died, and the last was mortally wounded. She was victorious, and earned some sort of right. Weeks later, she changed into a much larger warrior. Shortly after, she became the queen you see now."

I assumed he pulled up a picture from the CCTVs, but I didn't see a reason to look. Devon had his hands on the back of Doctor Shepard's chair, leaning forward and staring at the screen.

"My god. . . she's huge. Nichole—did you—are you fucking serious?" He whistled low.

"I had some help." His awe almost brought a smile to my face, but I managed to keep my voice even when I spoke.

"Still," he muttered, shaking his head.

Doctor Shepard glanced between the two of us and sighed before continuing. "It took a while for her to build her ovipositor—uh, egg sack, if you will—and then she started lying them en masse. The drones moved them around and organized them, though we're not sure if there was any real reason for it. We sedated them all and took some of the eggs to study."

One of the drones stood up to its full height at the window. Its oblong head swung left and right, then settled straight ahead. Even without eyes, and despite the distance we were apart, I felt like it was looking right at me. I held its not-gaze without blinking.

"So you started using human trials how long after that?" I asked.

"About seven months. Only four hosts, though. After that, they stopped taking them and just killed. They must feel like they don't have adequate space," he said, typing away at the computer in front of him.

I didn't look away from the drone, and after a moment or two it backed down and scurried out of eyesight. Finally I left the window and joined Devon by Doctor Shepard's side.

"So what are you going to do? How much do you possibly have left to learn from them?"

The doctor looked up at me from the top of the computer screen. "I don't know. We need to move them to a larger facility. I think they were talking about moving them to San Francisco, where a specialized facility will monitor them. There's talk about weaponizing their anatomy."

"What?" The word was a whisper on my lips.

"Their exoskeleton is resistant to everything but the most heavy duty firearms. If we can make armor from it, then we'd have a high advantage. On top of that, their claws cut through almost anything, as does the barb on their tail. That acid of theirs is something else, too. They're basically living weapons designed to kill." His typing stopped and he leaned in his chair, fingers tapping.

Devon rested against the table. "So the military just wants to harvest their parts for weapons and armor, not really make an army?"

Doctor Shepard shrugged. "It's not really the military. We've been receiving a lot of funding from Weyland Industries to continue our research. I'm not sure exactly what they want, but it's their direct involvement that's moving them out to San Francisco. I believe it's their own facility."

"And how do you know this facility of theirs is safe? What does a computer company want with aliens?" I demanded.

Both men glanced at me, but the doctor spoke. "I can assure you we'll take every precaution we can. They'll be sedated and out cold the entire trip. And, if they start reproducing again, we can attempt operating on potential hosts to see if the fetus can be removed. As for what Weyland Industries wants with them, I can only guess. We don't care where the funding comes from so long as it keeps coming."

Swallowing, I glared at him and decided to focus on the medical aspect. "You think you'd be able to remove one of those from someone?" It was five years too late to save Jess and my friends, but if they could figure it out now. . . .

I inwardly kicked myself. There wouldn't _be_ a need to learn how if there wasn't another outbreak. I had to destroy these things before they were moved, or at least find a way to become part of the team moving the xenos to California. If there would be a time to strike, it would be when they were on the move and security was reduced.

He shrugged again. "We don't know. We took X-rays of some of the goat hosts and human hosts. They attach themselves to a vital artery, but we're pretty sure we can do it."

Though I hated to admit it, that might have been a good endeavor. "Are you certain you can keep them sedated long enough to move them, though?" I urged, gripping the edge of the table like it was keeping me upright.

"Yes, agent. We are. We just need permission from the higher-ups now. It will most likely go through in a few months, there's some political stuff going on between us and Weyland."

"I wouldn't know."

I leaned back, unsatisfied, then turned on my heel and marched out of the room. My pulse thudded in my skull and footsteps chased after me. I ignored them and shoved through the observation deck's door.

"Hey wait!" Devon called after me.

Despite my better judgment, I stopped and turned toward him. "What?"

"You feeling okay?"

"Yes." He stared at me in disbelief and I sighed. "I just have a bad feeling about moving them. They can't get out of here, security is tight, it'll be easier to kill them if they try something funny. . .out on the road, anything could go wrong. Especially with that queen."

His eyes widened and he glanced over his shoulder. "You think she'd cause problems?"

"I know she would. The one I helped kill was huge and controlled the others. I don't know how smart they are, but I'm willing to bet they're smarter than we think."

We turned toward the elevator and Devon said, "I'm sure they'll make sure nothing goes wrong. I mean, they've gotta know how bad these things are and what would happen if they got loose. An alien infestation is the last thing anyone wants."

"You better hope they know what they're doing," I sighed.

The elevator shook to a stop and we stepped out onto the main floor and headed back toward our desks. "Why'd you want to work for the agency if you hate these aliens so much, anyway?"

"Well," I murmured, skimming the tips of my fingers over the oddly-shaped scar under my clavicle, "they're not all bad."

Devon gave a sage nod and failed to stifle a smile. "Ah, you want to learn about your mystery alien, the one that helped you survive that first hive. You know they're trying to track them down and capture one, right? How do you feel about that?"

My chair welcomed me back and I flicked the mouse to turn on my computer screen. "I know. Is that where they all are now?"

Nodding, Devon sat at his desk. They were close together so we could collaborate on cases. "I think so. I don't talk to any of 'em a whole lot, but I believe they said they had some leads on a possible landing or something."

I kept my eyes on my computer screen so I didn't seem interested. "Where?"

"I'm not sure. Europe, I think. Maybe Russia?"

"Those are two different places." I looked up from my game of Solitaire long enough to give him a withering look. He had his lasagna out again.

"Well, I don't know." He waved his empty fork in my direction. "I'm not a part of their exclusive club so I'm not exactly privy to their news. All I know is they said something about mysterious deaths and a location I can't remember."

"Alright, alright. Sorry."

There was a possibility that another predator was out there somewhere, killing. I should have been disgusted at the thought that humans were being hunted for game, but I couldn't conjure the feeling. If I could somehow get out and see one. . .but there hadn't been and opening for the task force since I joined. Their visits were so few and far between.

And, the openings were based on how many people _died._ If no one was dying, then there were no available positions.

It would be too cruel to actively _wish_ for someone's death.

"You hoping to get a spot among them sometime?" he asked around bites of lasagna.

"Yeah." I glanced up at him, wondering how he always seemed to know what I was thinking.

"Well here's to hoping." He drank from his soda can in a mock toast.

My game ended a few minutes later when I ran out of moves and I closed the window with a sigh. "I wonder if they still have Rawlins and Cooper on the taskforce."

He glanced up at me and quickly swallowed the bite of pasta. "The ones that interviewed you?"

I nodded, my eyes locked on my desktop and fingers tapping at my cheek.

"Dunno. Maybe. You'll have to see when they get back. Can't say I'm familiar with them, though." Devon gave me another look before gulping down the last of his lunch.

Conversation dwindled and I rotated in my chair, eyes focused on nothing in particular. Though I was getting closer to getting inside the lab and finishing off the hive, I still felt so far away. I was one woman, and they had a queen and more than a handful of matured drones and warriors. Anyway I looked at it, my mission was going to be extremely tough.

The thought to give up and call Wolf crossed my mind, but I quickly pushed it away. I had denied him so long ago with so many promises and I knew he would forsake me if I signaled him and had nothing to show for the past five years.

Well, not entirely true. I'd practiced a lot with self-defense so I had a general idea of how to fight, but I was no black belt in anything. My legs wouldn't permit rigorous fighting. I knew how to use a gun, but that wouldn't help me out in space where there wouldn't be any. None of that mattered, in any case. Not to him or his kind. They only knew tangible things—trophies—to show one's worth.

I couldn't call him and have _nothing._ Until then, I would be stuck on Earth, too ashamed to make contact. I had missed my train and I regretted every day that went by, every day that I tried to come up with a way to get inside and kill those _things_.

_Just a little longer_, I'd tell myself. _You'll think of something._

If I didn't. . .well, I would just live out my life like a human. When I thought about it, I realized I didn't have such a bad life. Most of the time I was behind a desk, filling out paperwork and waiting for a case to pop up. I had a decent one-bedroom apartment, made enough money to live comfortably and pay my bills. . .the only thing missing was a social life.

The office was not unlike high school. If I wanted, I could slide in with some of the groups that formed and make friends. Maybe I could even do some online dating. However, with the promise of an alien waiting for my call, to take me away on a space adventure, I had isolated myself.

Forbidden myself from something as simple as making friends.

After all, if I had no one I cared about on Earth, it would be easy to leave.

There was my family, of course, but I had felt disconnected to them for a long time, especially since they were all still in Colorado and I was sitting pretty in Washington DC. Most of the calls home I made were for courtesy so they knew I wasn't dead.

It wasn't too late, though. Devon was already technically a friend. I could hang out with him and his buddies, make myself a social life. Then maybe I wouldn't feel so torn. What proof did I have that Wolf would come pick me up anymore? The computer he had given me still worked, so I _could_ call him, but would he even come?

The snapping of fingers pulled me from my thoughts and I whirled around, eyes wide. I sucked in a sharp breath. Devon let out a surprised "Woah!" and chuckled, his hands raised slightly.

I scoffed and readjusted my shirt. "You know not to pull shit like that."

"Sorry!" His hands were up. "I've been trying to talk to you for like 90 seconds, though."

My hackles lowered and I exhaled loudly. "Alright, sorry, what?"

He sat back down, his eyebrows raised. "I was just wondering if you wanted to get a drink later or something, after work. Richard and Lucas invited me earlier."

Again he was in my head.

It wasn't the first time he'd asked me out like that. It probably wouldn't be the last. I rubbed my forehead and centered an empty form I was supposed to fill out for the last case—a wild goose chase caused by some falling rock from space—and searched for a pen while I thought up an excuse.

"I don't know I need to do some grocery shopping before I starve."

Devon smirked. "You outta sandwich meat or something?"

"Ha ha," I sighed, rolling my eyes. "No, I'm out of literally everything. I'll take a rain check though, so maybe next time."

His face fell and he swiveled in his chair. "Whatever you say. You can just tell me you don't want to spend time with anyone from the office outside of work hours, you know. No one will take offense. Plenty of people don't mix work with pleasure."

"It's not that," I insisted. "I really do just need to go grocery shopping."

"Whatever you say." He grabbed his own paperwork and aligned the sheets. "We better clock back in before filling this shit out."

I nodded and stood. "Right. If I gotta fill out paperwork I want to get paid for it."

"Exactly."

He followed me to the punch-in room and I tried not to look him in the face. I couldn't avoid social life forever unless I estranged myself from my coworkers and made my job hell. Maybe going out for a few hours on a Friday night wouldn't kill me. I'd get it out of my system so I didn't feel like I had missed out on some great human ritual.

Then, in a month, I would make the call. If I couldn't come up with some plan to kill off the hive and earn myself a few trophies on the way, I would call Wolf and own up to my shortcomings. Maybe we could make it a reunion date and kill them all together.

By that time, perhaps I could come up with something to tell him to soften the blow.

We sat back down at our desks and I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves. "You know what, Devon? I changed my mind."

My partner glanced up at me, eyes widened by a small margin.

"I think I will take you up on that offer. What time?"

His grin spread from ear to ear and he nodded. "Really? Well alright. It won't be until later tonight, so I'll call you when we're ready to pick you up, okay? Unless you have a car now and want to just meet us at the bar yourself."

_No going back, Nichole_. I shook my head and did my best impression of an eager smile. "No, I'll need to be picked up."

"You still at the same place?"

"Yep."

"Alright. Well, glad you changed your mind." I didn't miss the way his face brightened. Heat flushed my cheeks and I found it hard to meet his gaze.

Still, I had a role to play. I smiled back and busied myself with paperwork. "I look forward to it."

* * *

**Special thanks to Citrine for beta'ing for me yet again! You're a real help!**


	3. Bottoms Up

**Hello readers!**

**Terribly sorry for the wait, I was having such a hard time getting this chapter where I was confident to publish it. I think I finally got it somewhere I'm satisfied. Thanks to Citrine for looking it over again, and giving me some ideas on what to add and how to fix it. And, of course, thank you to all of my reviewers! You guys always bring a smile to my face~**

**Hopefully the next chapter will come out quicker, but no promises! Enjoy!**

**~ Crayola**

* * *

Chapter Two

Bottoms Up

I had never been to a bar before. I went to a Buffalo Wild Wings occasionally during my youth, and that _sold _beer, but probably didn't count as a real bar. Several different expectations warred for dominance in my mind—dark and scary? Bustling and loud? Quiet and full of burly bikers?

Richard from forensics drove us all—Devon, Lucas, and I—to their "favorite place" and I spent most of the ride trying to swallow butterflies.

It had been ages since I'd felt so out of my element, but it was also about time I gave up on my solitary life. Maybe Wolf would take me, maybe he wouldn't. If he did, I didn't want to have any regrets. I didn't want to regret never experiencing things that normal humans did; getting black-out drunk or going to a bar, seeing movies with friends, or just having a good time in general.

Maybe that was me trying to rationalize having a life. Maybe I'd spent too much time pretending to be an agent. I couldn't even convince myself that I _wanted_ to live my life with an alien anymore.

All for the best, really. If Wolf wouldn't accept me as I was now, then I couldn't very well burn all of my bridges on Earth or else my life would be miserable. What if he came and I decided not to go with him? What if I chickened out and wanted to stay on Earth? What if he didn't like my limp?

There were too many variables.

Richard's car barely fit all four of us comfortably and it was a relief when we finally pulled up and parked against the curb. The brick face of the building was worn-down, and a large sign overhead read "Beer." Hard to miss.

"Designated driver?" I was barely out of the vehicle before I brought it up.

"Well it's my car, I'm driving it. I know how many I can drink and still drive okay."

My eyes narrowed and I slammed the door shut. "Everyone always says that and that's how people die in drunk driving accidents."

Lucas, also from forensics, shook his head. "Don't worry. When you drink as often as we do, you learn your limits." Light red hair with a faint curl formed a frame around his face, and indistinct freckles dotted the bridge of his nose. His black t-shirt was taught over his athletic body.

"You're _federal agents_, you should behave as such and use a designated driver." I sniffed and put my hands on my hips, refusing to move forward.

"We do this all the time! It'll be alright, I promise," Richard said.

Unconvinced, I made a mental note to walk home or take a bus. After another moment of studying their confident expressions, I said, "Whatever you say, man. Don't kill me."

"Trust." Richard grinned, nudging me with his elbow. He was the sole reason the "jolly fat man" stereotype existed. The only thing he was missing was a thick beard. As it was, all he had was a well-groomed goatee.

I shot him a look, but he wasn't paying attention so I brushed off my arm where he'd touched me and grumbled to myself.

Devon held my arm and pulled me back a few paces while the other two men hurried up the sidewalk. He gave me a reassuring smile and I gently tugged my arm out of his grasp. "Just lemme know when you want to leave. I'll pay for a cab."

His gesture made me smile and I nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

Our companions stopped at the door and glanced over at us. "What are you guys waiting for? An open invitation from god? Stop making out and get in here!"

Richard was not making a good first impression.

Nonetheless, Devon and I hurried to catch up to them. He shot me an apologetic eye-roll and smile once Richard and Lucas had their backs turned. The window was painted with colorful letters that's read "Dumpty's" and had a cartoon of Humpty Dumpty underneath holding a beer mug. Cute.

When I stepped over the threshold, I was expecting a scene straight from _Coyote Ugly_—a hundred bodies all crammed into a tiny space, music blasting through the bar, and scantily-clad women dancing on the counter. I expected to wrestle my way to the front, shoulder-to-shoulder against sweaty men drunk off their asses. At some point a bar fight would break out and I'd have to punch someone in the nose.

Not the case.

Well, the bar fight was still a possibility.

Though not empty, there certainly weren't a hundred people inside. Maybe thirty. They were all in their own corners, in booths, or alone watching one of the large flat-screen TVs mounted near the ceiling. The interior was modern with sleek surfaces and clean floors, even a few arcade games pushed against the wall near the entrance. Various paintings decorated the walls, but it wasn't cluttered. A single pool table sat isolated in the middle of the room, surrounded by small, circular stands. Dart boards hung out on their own wall with a few people gathered around.

So much for my expectations of a dirty dive full of hairy bikers. Oh well.

"So, what? Do we pick a table and wait, or sit at the bar?" Despite the occasional bursts of laughter and quiet rock music playing over the various speakers, it was only loud enough that I had to raise my voice above "inside voice" to be heard.

Lucas and Richard walked ahead toward the front bar and I watched them helplessly, looking to Devon for answers. I was unsure of myself for the first time in years.

He put a hand on my shoulder and stepped up close so he could speak to me without trouble. "We'll order at the bar and then take our drinks over to a table. Just remember to tip well—you brought cash, right?"

"Yeah, you told me to grab some, so I did. Why?"

"Just easier. Can't spend what you don't have. First drink's on me, though," he offered, allowing me to sit on the stool while he hovered behind me.

Richard slapped his shoulder and guffawed. "You hear that? Devon's buying the first round!"

"Alright, Devon!"

He snorted and shoved Richard away. "Not for you assholes. This is Nichole's first bar experience, so it's a treat for her."

"That's really not necessary," I chimed in, trying not to blush.

They ignored me, but Devon shot me an encouraging smile.

"Man, she shouldn't have to buy drinks at all. Nichole, unbutton your shirt and show a little skin. You'll have them _throwing_ drinks at you!" Richard said, grinning wolfishly. "Try to look a little available, you know?"

I didn't know him well enough to appreciate his brand of humor and I had to suppress the urge to pop him in the jaw. Instead I crossed my arms over my chest and ignored him the best I could, eyes scanning the bottles in front of us. There had to be something familiar here for me to have as a first drink. Beer didn't seem right, though.

"Hey leave her alone," Devon said, shifting so he was between me and Richard. "She was made unavailable the second she walked in with the three of us."

"True 'nuff." Lucas was leaning over the counter, looking for a bartender.

Rolling my eyes, decided to get the topic off of how available I was. "Hello? Can someone tell me what I should be ordering or something?"

"Shot of whiskey."

"Rum and coke!"

So. Very. Helpful. Maybe tagging along hadn't been such a good idea after all. I sighed heavily and rubbed my forehead. "Should I just order a beer?"

Shaking his head, Devon said, "You won't like it, no one likes their first beer. The alcohol itself isn't going to taste good no matter how you spin it, so be ready for a weird aftertaste. Ideally you should get a cocktail, but it's traditional for your first drink to be a shot, like Lucas said. We'll see where we're at from there, but you can't go wrong with a margarita."

"So, a shot of whiskey then?"

He shook his head again. "No, probably tequila. Whiskey's not wrong, but tequila tastes better and will go down easier for your first shot."

"Tequila?"

"Evening, folks." The bartender finally approached. He was wearing a dark, collared shirt. White letters sewn onto the breast informed us of his name—Jared. "What can I get you?"

Richard slapped some cash on the counter. The bartender didn't blink and I experienced the overwhelming urge to apologize on my companion's behalf. "I'll take a Corona, if you please. Keep the change, _hombre._"

The bartender nodded and turned to Lucas without writing anything down. "And you, boss?"

"Just give me a bottle of whiskey and a glass." He also slid a few bills across the counter. He seemed to think about something a moment, then shook his head. "No, two, actually. Glasses, I mean. Not bottles. One bottle, two glasses."

Jared nodded and turned to Devon and me.

"First I'd like two shots of tequila, please. Then, she'll have a margarita and I'll just take a bottle of Miller, if you got it."

His attention turned to me and my face paled. He said, "On the rocks, frozen, or straight?"

My mouth bobbed and I turned helplessly toward Devon, my eyes wide. "Um—I don't—what's the difference?"

Devon smiled and I wanted to slap him. "On the rocks is with ice, frozen is. . .kind of like a slushee, and straight is without ice. I would either get it on the rocks or frozen, if I were you. Doesn't seem right, having a margarita without ice."

There were too many options. I shook my head and turned my bewildered gaze to Jared who was patiently waiting. "Um, I guess frozen? I like slushies. . . ."

He nodded and took Devon's money for the shots and his beer. I could have insisted I pay for myself, but what was the point of going to a bar if I didn't accept one free drink? Jared counted out the cash and then sighed. "You're short."

"Oh, sorry, I'm paying for the margarita. How much?" I cut off Devon when he tried to explain.

Jared's expression softened and I paid for my drink when told the price, then insisted he keep the five dollars in change. He tried to give Devon his change back, but he told him to keep it as well. I hoped my five dollars was enough of a tip.

"Thank you," I said, almost in afterthought as he turned away. Jared shot me a smile before ducking beneath the counter.

Part of me felt like I should tell him my "buddies" were going to start driving later, but it wasn't my business. The last thing I wanted to do was start an argument so I kept my mouth shut. Devon already offered to find me an alternate way home.

Turning to Lucas, Richard asked, "Who's the second glass for? Is Rebecca joining us tonight?"

Lucas nodded. "Yeah, she gets off work late tonight but she should be here in like. . . ." He paused to check his phone. "Half an hour or something."

"Rebecca is your. . . girlfriend?"

"Wife," he said, smiling and raising his left hand to show the golden band.

"Ah, sorry."

The bartender popped back up with a set of shot glasses, Devon's Miller, and a bottle of Corona for Richard. He poured us each the shots and left the bottle of whiskey for Lucas before disappearing to make my margarita.

I stared at the tiny glass in front of me, scrutinizing it as if it were on fire. "So, what do I do?"

"Like this," Lucas snickered, picking up his shot and downing it in one gulp, complete with the head toss I recognized from movies. He set the glass back down with a thump and grit his teeth. "Ooh that burns—first one's outta the way."

Devon raised his shot of tequila and motioned toward mine. "We'll do it together."

"Okay," I sighed, rubbing my fingers against each other before picking it up. I watched Devon for cues, lifted my glass when he did, and gulped down the shot a few seconds later. The aftertaste was bitter and I could feel it as much as I tasted it. I coughed and pushed the shot glass away, squinting and wheezing. My throat was warm. "Oh my god what is _that." _I pressed my knuckles against my lips.

Laughing, Devon shook his head. He coughed once before saying, "That's the alcohol. Don't worry, your margarita won't be so bitter."

The traces of tequila remained at the back of my throat for several more moments and I smacked my lips, trying to make it go away. "Why the hell do people do this all the time? It wasn't very good—no offense to you." I noticed Jared in time to add the second thought.

He handed me a frosted glass with off-green, crushed ice. Salt rimmed the side. He shrugged and said, "Takes time to get used to."

Then, he left us to attend to other customers and we abandoned the bar, moving instead toward an isolated booth where we could socialize. Or whatever it was people did when they were trying to get drunk. I sat in the corner with Devon next me, though I had scoot over to the wall when he sat too close.

"You guys come here often?" I asked, staring at my margarita before plucking the lime wedge from the glass.

Richard shrugged. "Every few weeks."

"Drinking's a little too expensive for a weekly thing, so we do it on payday instead," said Lucas.

Finally, I attempted a sip of the margarita. My teeth crunched the crushed ice and I shuddered from the cold. The taste of alcohol made me cough. Still better than the shot of tequila, by a margin. After a bit more of it, my face felt like rubber. I gently pat my cheeks, then ate a mouthful of green slush. Salty. Tangy. Not half bad.

Devon leaned toward me. "Did you eat before we picked you up like I said?"

"Yeah. . .a sandwich." I took another sample of my drink and shuddered when it was more than I'd wanted and pain shot through my brain.

"Do you live exclusively off of sandwiches?" he chuckled.

"No!" I pressed the heel of my palm against my temple and clenched my eyes shut, using my free hand to slap at Devon's shoulder. "Ugh. . .brain freeze."

"Push your thumb against the roof of your mouth. That'll make you feel better," Lucas said, pouring himself another shot of whiskey before gulping it down in one swig. He gasped and shook his head. "Burns so good."

"I'm not sticking my finger in my mouth," I snorted.

"It'll help."

"I won't!"

The two other men snickered and Devon grimaced. "How long ago did you eat?"

Shrugging, I wiped some of the salt on the glass rim off with my finger and, contrary to what I'd said before, stuck it in my mouth. Immediate regret. I gagged and took a drink of the margarita to chase the salt down. Richard guffawed at my expression and slapped his palm on the counter. Lucas was hiding snickers behind his hand.

"An hour ago? Two hours ago? When I got home from work." I shot everyone a glare, daring them to keep laughing. They did. A fork sat before each of us, next to a spoon and on top of a napkin. It would be easy. Just pick up the fork, slam it into someone's hand. . . .

Devon sighed. "That's too long—you can't drink alcohol on an empty stomach."

"Don't tell me what to do." He'd get the fork, too.

For another moment he stared at me, lips pursed, then turned in his chair to look at the front counter. "They serve food here?"

"Probably," Richard said, finishing off his beer. "Be right back need another beer."

Lucas filled his shot glass and passed it over in front of me. Meanwhile, Richard shimmied free of the booth and wandered back up to the bar. "Here, try a shot of whiskey. Careful, though, it's gonna burn more than the tequila."

I stared at the shot glass and squinted. Brown. The color of shit water. "No."

He shrugged and pulled it back. "Suit yourself." He shot down the whiskey instead and wheezed. He was making a _real_ good argument.

Still, I was up for new things. "Okay."

Raising his eyebrows, Lucas poured out some and handed me the glass. I stared at it, eyebrows furrowed, then gulped it down. My throat burned and I coughed, nearly throwing the glass at Lucas' head. Instead, I slammed the glass down on the table and let out a whine, grabbing Devon's shoulder. "Why? Why why why why?"

"You took the shot, don't blame me," he chuckled.

Everyone shared a laugh at my expense and I glowered into my tasty-by-comparison margarita slush drink. It was like I had swallowed woodchips instead of liquor. Woodchips that had been on_ fire_. I rubbed my face with my hands. When that didn't quite fix it, I sucked on the lime.

I made a face, shuddered, but continued to suck on the lime anyway.

"Dude you weren't lying when you said this was her first time drinking. What a lightweight," Richard said, sitting back down with his new beer.

When Devon opened his mouth to reply, I turned and glared at him, daring him to say something I didn't like. He glanced at me, mouth agape, then shook his head and took a swig from his bottle. "She'll be alright."

"That's right," I muttered, tilting my head back and shaking the rest of the margarita into my mouth. It gave me another brain freeze, but fuck it.

Unsuccessfully I tried to stop from giggling. "Butt fuck it," I muttered, tittering into my empty cup. The dregs of half-melted ice slid down the sides, pooling at the bottom of the glass. I leaned back and tried to gulp down what little was left.

Richard shared a look with Lucas, his brows knit. "What is she on about?"

Devon just shrugged. "Who knows."

"None-ya business," I growled, eyes narrowed. Soon after I started snickering.

My drink was gone. I had to fix it. "Can I get another? Do they have pee-nya coll-adas here?" I turned, looking toward the bar and trying to spot Jared. Jared was cool. He'd get me a drink. "I hear those are pa-retty popular."

They all shook their heads, but Devon spoke. "Let that one settle first. You don't want to end the night throwing up into a toilet, do you?"

I pursed my lips and sat back in my chair, arms crossed. "No."

"We'll get you something to eat and then we'll see about ordering you another drink."

Lucas nodded and dragged his bottle of whiskey further away from me. Yeah. Like I wanted any of _that _hog swallow again. "Yeah take it easy, you weigh like 80 pounds and alcohol poisoning is a real thing. The best way to ruin a night is a trip to the hospital," he said.

Though my tongue was still sharp, it was starting to feel thicker and I stumbled on my words. "Says the—uh, drunk driving. . . shit lamps! And I weigh—I weigh like, _more_ than a hundred pounds, okay?" Eighty pounds. . . I would have been _dead_. Idiots. No way they were gonna find out how much I weighed but it was more than _80 pounds_.

Fuckwits.

Conversation turned after they all laughed at me, but I became fascinated with the men playing darts across the room, and then loud noises from the pool table turned my head. The paintings on the wall were interesting and caught my eye, only to lose it to the colorful neon sign flashing across the wall. It was too far to read, though.

Finally, when Devon ran out of booze, he escorted me to the bar and we ordered some fries and a piña colada. I realized halfway back to our booth, my new drink in hand and Devon carrying my fries, that the escort was so I didn't sit with the wrong group of people.

Which I almost did.

Devon was paying more attention than I would have credited and he took my arm, pulling me back into the right booth before I made a fool of myself.

Walking was difficult, what with the inebriation and the limp.

I shot everyone a glare, daring them to laugh. This time they didn't.

They were in the middle of swapping work stories when I heard a strange buzzing noise. My piña colada was half gone and I was still nibbling fries. No ketchup. Fuck ketchup. Devon shifted next to me and I leaned away from him as he struggled to pull something from his pocket. The movement made my head spin and my stomach flop.

"Stop _wiggling_!" If only looks could kill.

"Someone's calling me, calm down," he muttered, pulling his cell phone from his pocket. Ah. The buzzing. He read the caller ID, then swore. "It's Dixon."

"What's that stiff want? It's Friday," Lucas groaned, fidgeting with his bottle. He kept glancing at the door, looking for his wife. He obviously wanted to drink more of the whiskey but was trying to save some for when this Rebecca person arrived. _If_ she was real.

He shrugged, then put the phone to his ear. "Hart."

I traced the pattern on the wall with the nail of my index finger, drawing each curl and bump. Devon was only allotted a portion of my attention. The fry I was eating received the rest.

"We're at the bar, why what happened?" Dixon said something inaudible. "Yes, she's here too."

She? Must mean me. I swung around to face him, then shoved him away when I wound up too close. "God don't crowd me."

Devon glanced at me, brow knit together in disbelief, but scooted away. "I mean, I guess we could come in, but Shain's a little. . .out of it right now, I don't know how much she'd—well, not a whole lot but—alright alright. I'll. . .buy her some water. McGrath and Martin are here too, should they—ok. Alright. Be there soon."

When he stuffed his phone in his pocket and stood, I narrowed my eyes. "What's he want? Where we going? Why we going? I thought we were having fun. What about my fries and drink?"

Sighing, Devon sat back down. "You can bring the fries with you, just leave the basket. Finish your drink quick, though: duty calls. You two can stay here and continue the fun, though. Tell Rebecca that I'm sorry I missed her."

"What did Dixon want?" Richard asked, swirling the remains of his second beer.

"I don't know." Devon shrugged. "He didn't say, just that Nichole and I needed to come in."

As if my life depended on it, I chugged the rest of my drink and stuffed a few fries in my mouth, trying to chase away the inevitable brain freeze. When it didn't work, I pushed the heels of my palms against my head and whimpered quietly.

"Idiot, you didn't have to finish it _that_ quickly," Devon sighed, exasperated.

"Can't keep Dixon waiting," I gurgled, mouth and brain frozen.

He sighed and stood up again, shimmying out of the booth. He remembered his beer at the last second and drank the rest in one sitting.

"Well grab your fries and let's go. We gotta stop and get you some water so you can sober up."

"I'm not drunk, limp dick." I gathered up my things, clenched my eyes shut against the pain in my skull, then dragged my ass upright.

Richard and Lucas snickered, but I missed Devon's reaction: I was trying to remember how to stand up straight. "Damn she's fucking scrappy when she's lit," Lucas said, shaking his head and giggling like a stupid teenager. I narrowed my eyes and considered hitting him.

"I'm not _lit_ either you all just _piss me off."_

"Da-amn," Richard laughed. I was glad they found this _so funny._

Devon rolled his eyes and gripped my arm when I forgot walking required placing one foot in front of the other, not kicking yourself. I allowed him to brace me, then I tore my arm away and straightened my shirt. "Okay I'm fine, okay? God. Okay."

"You guys need a ride?" Richard asked, standing.

"I'll just call a taxi."

Richard shook his head and pulled his keys out. "Nah, I'll take you. Lucas needs to wait for his gal. Maybe he can play some darts."

He lifted his hand and grinned. "Yeah I'll be alright. I'll wait here for Rebecca."

Shaking my head I said, "No he's had _two beers._ He'll _kill us._"

"Nichole, it'll be alright." Devon gave me one of his disarming smiles. I narrowed my eyes at him, swayed, then rolled my eyes.

"_Whatever_ can we _go?"_

I forced myself to straighten, then followed Richard and Devon outside without further incident. Except when I tripped on the raised sidewalk. And when I failed to duck low enough when climbing into the car. I made up a few new profanities for that one.

*:･ﾟ✧

My balance was found in a bottle of water and at the bottom of my napkin full of fries. The world still lost focus, and the slightest movement dragged my attention away from—everything. "I didn't even get to be in a bar fight," I grumbled.

"That's a _good_ thing," Devon insisted, leading me through the empty halls of headquarters.

"What did—what did Dixon want?" I asked, the words thick on my tongue. How many times had I asked that? I was pretty sure I'd asked the same question before. . . .

He shrugged. "Dunno. Didn't say. Just wanted us to come in as quick as we could."

"Well then where _is he_."

"Right here. Glad you two could make it."

I jumped four feet in the air and spun around. My legs threatened to give out from under me. Director Dixon was in the hallway leading to the elevators, his hands in his pockets. "God!" I sputtered.

Dixon made a questioning look at Devon, who shrugged. "Don't mind her. Nichole, drink your water. What do you need?" He shifted his attention from me to Dixon and I grumbled about him telling me what to do, but drank my water anyway. Something about flushing the alcohol out or some shit. I didn't pay attention to him most of the time.

The whole drive over I'd been focusing _real hard_ on making sure Richard didn't kill us.

"There's been some. . .openings on the Predator team. They came back about two hours ago. Nichole, you were the first person I wanted to speak to."

Adrenaline spiked and my mind cleared enough to focus. The swaying didn't stop—and my legs were killing me—but he had my attention. I swallowed the lump in my throat, then inhaled deeply. "Openings?" I said, working harder than normal to enunciate properly.

Nodding, he held his arm out and we walked forward, matching strides with him toward the elevators. "That's right. I know you were off the clock when I called, so I'll forgive your current state and apologize for ruining your night out. However, I think once you're officially on the team you'll find it in your heart to forgive me."

My mouth opened to ask, but Devon beat me to it and I clamped my mouth shut. What was I going to ask, anyway? The question had already fluttered away.

"Who did we lose?" Devon's voice was calculated and flat. "And how?"

Ah Devon, asker of the hard questions. Though I tried, I couldn't hold back mini-giggles. "I know how," I whispered in a sing-song voice.

There was a good chance it had to do with a large, muscular alien punching out their hearts.

The director didn't miss a beat, or maybe he didn't hear me. "Lena Henson, Jimmy Collins, Paul Kim, Letitia Wright, and Ethan Donahue. They were. . .slain, trying to apprehend the extraterrestrial."

"That's my bo-oy." Both men turned their heads toward me and I pursed my lips, ducking my head. Heat—more than what was already there—flushed my cheeks and I fought to stifle a smile. I mouthed the word "sorry" and chugged the rest of my water.

I thought I'd said it quietly. Oh well.

"How many drinks did she have?" Dixon demanded. The elevator doors closed around us.

Devon sighed and scratched the bridge of his nose. "Two shots, a margarita, and a piña colada."

Dixon gave me a strange look and I scowled. "I never drank before!" I snarled.

I blinked rapidly and then shut my eyes tight. "Sorry, sorry, sorry," I chanted, breathing deeply.

Maybe I could expunge the liquor by sheer force of will.

"Well she'll sober right up when she sees it," Dixon said as the doors to the elevator opened again. We were on one of the basements I wasn't allowed on. I could _technically_ go down whenever I wanted, but if I was caught_. . ._that was another story.

It.

The word hit me in the stomach like an angry bull and I reeled, eyes wide. I glanced between Devon and Dixon, mind clear and balance returned. My hands shook and my lip quivered as I tried to find the words. Finally, they came. "What _it_?"

Dixon smiled and my stomach churned. He held out his hand, inviting me forward. Devon looked to me, keeping the elevator doors open with his body, but I was frozen where I stood, paralyzed by the implications. I looked between the two of them, my mouth open. "What _it?"_ I demanded with more force. I wasn't leaving the elevator until he answered me.

"The reason why I called you guys first. I tried Nichole's cell before Devon's, but you didn't answer," he explained, urging me forward.

I thinned my lips and searched my purse for my phone, then the back pockets of my pants. When I came up with nothing, I groaned and pictured it lying on the counter next to my key-hook. "Sorry, I must have forgotten it."

He nodded and smiled. "That is quite alright, you're here now, and that's what matters."

Finally I left the elevator and Devon stepped aside, allowing the doors to slide shut.

Dixon's smile broadened and he let his hand drop. "Your expertise will be pivotal to this case from here on out. I've been trying to get you on the taskforce since you started training, but I couldn't get approved for the man-hours of adding an extra person. Now, though, is the perfect opportunity, no offense to the deceased." He led us forward down the hall and into a room not unlike the one I used to watch the xenos in their enclosure.

My feet carried me without hesitation to the window and my breath left my lungs. The white room on the other end of the glass was much smaller than the lab holding the xenos, but still had a number of tables with equipment and one examining table.

"We lost five good agents, but we finally have a live specimen to study, and a load of tech."

Strapped to the examining table, fully awake, movements sluggish and visibly weak, was a bloodied and bruised—and naked—predator.


	4. No one to Call

**Hello readers!**

**Let me start off by saying I'm SOOO sorry for the wait. This month has been a disaster for me. My bearded dragon fell ill and I ended up taking her to the emergency clinic and that was really stressful and took three different vet visits (she's okay, still recovering), and I couldn't focus on anything. Besides that, I had a lot going on at work and we bought a huge 60 gallon aquarium last weekend so we spent most of the week setting that up, buying plants, etc etc. Then yesterday we were rear-ended at a stop and had to get ourselves checked out at the hospital and for some reason that took six hours (my husband and I are fine, no major injuries). **

**Anyway, this chapter was kind of difficult for me to write because of all the distractions. It was actually one big chapter, but I cut it in half and will post chapter four sometime this weekend hopefully since I have most of it written, unless there's anything else that decides to happen and fuck with my timeline. Hopefully the quality of the chapter here hasn't declined, but I'm pretty sure Citrine did an excellent job keeping me from degrading at all. **

**I hope you enjoy even though it's a little shorter than normal, and sorry again for the wait. Hopefully it never takes me this long to post again. **

**~ Crayola**

* * *

Chapter Three

No one to Call

Bile rose in the back of my throat and panic held my breath captive. It took me several seconds to remember how to fill my lungs. To my altered mind, there was only one conclusion I could come to—it had to be Wolf on that table.

Never mind that the color of his skin was all wrong or his build wasn't the same.

What was the probability, anyway?

My stomach churned and I wrapped an arm around my torso, holding myself together. I turned around, eyes unable to focus, and searched for Dixon.

I realized too late my breathing was audible.

With my other hand I groped the air, looking for something to brace against. Bees filled my skull, buzzing and causing static. Devon found me, holding my outstretched arm with one hand and the other fell to my back. "Nichole, are you okay?"

How? How did they get him? How _dare_ they lock him down like some kind of _animal_? My fingers balled into fists and I searched until I found the fuzzy outline of Dixon. I stumbled toward him with malicious intent. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and held it out toward me. "Shain what's wrong?"

Somehow I found my voice. "How did—"

It was the catalyst my stomach needed. Cotton filled my head and I reeled, lunging across the room for a trash bin. I emptied the volatile cocktail of fries, water, and liquor from my stomach, making it to the trash by inches. Fingers brushed my cheeks and my hair was tugged back out of the way.

"Jesus Christ, Hart! Why'd you let her drink that much?"

"I didn't!" Devon's voice was much closer than Dixon's. "I deliberately tried to avoid this!"

I shut my eyes tight and coughed into the trash can, tried to wrap my mind around the fact that they had managed to capture Wolf—or, no. It couldn't be Wolf, could it? Wolf was not the only predator in the universe, but I had to be sure.

"I didn't think she'd react this way. What's wrong with her?" Dixon asked.

Devon shifted next to me. "I don't know—I. . .it must just be overwhelming? Nichole what's wrong? Talk to us."

No no no. I shook my head and sat back on my haunches, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. They weren't getting a peep out of me, not about what I was really thinking anyway. How appalled I was that they were actually _successful_ in their endeavors.

That I was _insulted _by their success.

When I tried to stand, Devon held his arm out and let me use him as a ladder to my feet. The contents of my stomach were replaced with a hate-fueled fire. Though already empty, I still wanted to throw up. If I had my gun, I couldn't have guaranteed I wouldn't use it and shoot Dixon in order to make an escape.

Even if I did, the predator in there—Wolf or not—was drugged up. He wouldn't have been any help in his own rescue. We wouldn't have gotten far. Dixon would have stopped us, and I didn't have the heart to fill him with lead.

There had to be a way, though. Despite knowing he was on Earth to kill people, I couldn't bring myself to give a single fuck. Maybe if he was planning to kill people I _knew_, but as it was he had been hunting on the other side of the world and there was no point in holding it against him.

The important thing here was that we had one of _Wolf's_ people and that meant we had _Wolf's_ tech. I had to get it back, or find the means to destroy it.

I pushed away from my partner and braced myself against the window, staring at the new alien. Now that I wasn't blinded by surprise and rage, I could see he wasn't naked after all: his loincloth merely matched the color of his skin—charred wood, compared to Wolf's pistachio. At first I had been convinced it was Wolf on that slab, tied up and beaten, but now the differences were clear. Still, I felt my heart tearing seeing one his kind in this state.

"How did you do it?" I said at last, my voice hoarse.

Dixon shook his head and stepped up next to me, turning me by force with his hands on my shoulders. I refused to look at him, my gaze still drawn to the predator. He said, "None of that matters. What happened _to you_? Do you need some water?"

My mouth did taste awful. I sighed and touched my fingers to my forehead. A sheen of sweat had formed on my brow. "Yes, please. Water would be fantastic."

"Devon, go get her some water," Dixon ordered.

Devon didn't immediately move and I turned my head away from the window to stare directly at our director. "Let me in there with him."

Silence met my request but my resolve didn't falter. After we stared each other down for a spell, Dixon shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "That's not happening," he said, trying to match my defiant stare. When I parted my lips to speak, he cut me off with a swift gesture. "You just had a full-blown panic attack at the mere _sight_ of that thing! You're not going in there with it."

"I'm fine!" I ripped my arm free of his grasp when he tried to drag me off and I backed away.

"You didn't look fine," Devon said, his voice soft and face contorted with concern.

Our gazes met and my shoulders slumped. Devon was looking at me like I was an apparition. I imagined how I looked to him—tense, frazzled, aggressive. Here I was, the woman who had survived a night inside a closed ship with those vicious black parasites. . .torn to shreds at the first sign of meeting with the kind of alien that had saved my life.

This wasn't me. I'd been caught off-guard, flat-footed. I'd allowed myself to be rattled and I had to calm down.

I put a hand to my head and glanced out toward the predator. His wounds were many and I felt heat flood my veins—why wouldn't they treat his wounds? At least attempt to bandage him? And his breathing was labored. . .could he breathe our air?

My fingers flexed in and out of a fist. Demands halted at the tip of my tongue—_help him, give him his mask, let him go, you'll all be sorry_. . . .

"I need some air." I rubbed my face and inhaled deeply.

Devon was at my side instantly, leading me out of the room. Dixon followed behind us to lock the door. I brushed Devon away each time he offered a helping hand or moved too close.

"I want a chance to talk to him," I demanded once inside the elevator.

"You're still on that?" Dixon sighed.

Squaring my shoulders, I faced him and forced my voice to remain even. "You said it yourself, you're going to need me now more than ever. I've interacted with his kind as an ally. I've had a taste of their language and he'll _listen_ to me."

"What makes you so sure?"

My gaze flickered to Devon, and then I sighed and lowered my jacket, then pulled down the collar of my shirt to exposed the mark left by Wolf. "Because I've got _this."_ I shifted my clothes back when Dixon had a good enough look.

"And why would that bare any influence?" he challenged.

Again my gaze shifted between the two men. If divulging this information gave me access to the predator in that room, then so be it. "The one that saved me gave it to me after I helped him kill the queen. He. . .it was some sort of rite of passage, an honor or something. He had. . .a similar marking on his mask. I don't know what this one in particular means, but, maybe it'll help the one you guys have feel more. . .comfortable.."

"Just with you, though," Dixon clarified, his expression dubious.

I nodded. "Most likely."

"Are you sure? What if that means something completely different?" Devon countered.

Sighing, I closed my eyes. "I don't know if it does or not, but it's a shot. He'll _talk_ to me, at least."

"How will he understand?"

"If you would give him his mask it would translate. At least, I assume that how I and the other one were able to communicate." The 20 degree was starting to grind on my nerves.

Dixon shook his head. "Are you sure?"

I lifted my hands by my head and sighed. "You'll just have to _give me a chance_! I don't know _for sure_ it's going to work, but it's better than nothing."

The two men looked at each other, and then the elevator doors opened. "Fine, but not tonight. Its wounds need tending and we have some tests to run."

"Who's going to tend his wounds? We were the only ones there," I said.

"No, they were testing his blood in the lab. That's just an examination room. They can't treat him until they know what he's made out of, otherwise we could kill him. They'll treat him superficially for now, stop him from bleeding out," he explained, leading us back to the offices.

"His other wounds?"

Eyes narrowed, Dixon said, "We don't know what else is wrong until we take x-rays. Why do you care so much, Shain?"

I was already in too deep, so I decided to be honest. "Because his kind _helped_ me. I want to make sure you guys are treating him as fairly as you would any other murderer put in jail. I'm not saying treat him like royalty, but he is a sentient being, surely that means something?"

"I'm with Nichole on this one, sir." Devon added the "sir" as in afterthought. I shot him a grateful look and he nodded at me.

Shaking his head, Dixon turned away. "Whatever, we'll deal with it later. When you come into work on Monday, we'll let you have your shot at interrogation. The paperwork will have gone through by then and you'll officially be on the team."

"And what about Devon?" The words were out of my mouth before I could think twice.

"Of course, he can join if he wants to. I didn't call him just because I couldn't reach you. You two have been partners for a while and we have the room."

It took a measured amount of control to keep myself from looking at Devon while I waited for his answer. I wasn't sure what I wanted more—for Devon to leave this to me so I didn't have a shadow, or to take the offer so I had at least one familiar face by my side.

"Yeah, why not. Put me on the team," he said with minimal hesitation.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and refused to look at him. Relief battled with irritation for a moment until Dixon spoke. "Alright. I'll put the paperwork in first thing in the morning. You two go home for now, this obviously wasn't the best time to bring all of this up."

"I'm fine," I said through clenched teeth. "It was just the alcohol, that's it."

Yes, the alcohol. Not the gut-wrenching belief that my friend was going to be experimented on and tortured _for science_. Even the mere thought twisted my stomach into knots and it wasn't even Wolf on that table.

_Who _is_ he?_

"I believe you, but I don't want to take any chances. Go home, get some rest, and take the weekend to cool off. I'll see you guys on Monday."

We waited for Dixon to disappear into his office before I shot toward the front-end elevator to the ground floor. They went to the parking garage, whereas the elevators in the back went to the various basements. I pressed the button with enough force to almost jam my finger, then pushed it a few more times for good measure. Devon was right behind me, but he didn't speak.

My entire body trembled with the suppressed emotions. I waited for Devon to speak the entire time the elevator descended. He never did and I wasn't sure if I liked it: all I could hear was my heartbeat in my ears and my own breaths.

When the elevator doors _ping_ed open, I was off like a racehorse out of the gate.

"Where are you going?" Devon called behind me.

I did my best to ignore him and kept my eyes on the prize—the open night air. The only thing between me and the outside world was the doors. I shoved them open and almost took off sprinting, but Devon grabbed my arm and jerked me to a stop.

"Nichole, what are you doing? Where are you going?"

Hissing, I wrenched my arm free of his grasp and whirled on him, ready to lash out. However, his expression extinguished the flame inside me and I lowered my gaze. "Nothing. I'm going home."

"What happened in there?" he asked after a moment's hesitation. "I've never seen you so shaken like that, not even when you go down to see those parasite things. I thought whatever they caught tonight helped you?"

"He did. Not that one, but one of them."

"So then why. . . ?"

When I couldn't find the right words, I tossed my hands in defeat and huffed. "I don't know, Devon. I just—I saw him on that table and I. . .I panicked, okay? The alcohol _certainly_ didn't help but I was just. . ._scared_."

"Why? He can't get out."

"Not for me. For _him._"

He stared at me like I was speaking in tongues. I shook my head and turned away, marching toward in the direction of my apartment. "You wouldn't understand."

Once again he stopped me by the arm. "Then help me understand."

We locked eyes, and then I shook my head and pulled away. "I can't right now, Devon. I need to go home. I need to walk. Just. . .I need to be alone for a little bit, please?"

For a moment he stood there, looking torn. I silently pleaded for him to drop it and let me go. When he did, he looked so crestfallen I almost took it back. "Alright. Well, I'll see you on Monday, then, Nichole. You gonna be okay going home by yourself?"

My resolve faltered, but I held it together with safety pins and nodded, forcing a smile. "I'll be alright, I promise."

He nodded and stuck his hands in his pockets and backed up to stand under a street light. I turned around a couple times to watch him as I walked away, shot him a reassuring wave, then hurried onward without glancing back again.

I never did get my water.

*:･ﾟ✧

Though I held myself together the entire walk, everything crumbled down when I was home. The trek over did nothing but expel excess energy and distract my thoughts. Walking forced me to think about street names, which turns to take, and whether or not I was lost.

The second I was inside and the door closed behind me, I turned on the entrance light to dispel the darkness, and only one thought crossed my mind:

Call Wolf.

I tripped over myself to get to my room, dropping my purse and coat somewhere along the way. The contents of my underwear drawer were strewn all across the floor before I found it: Wolf's computer. I stared at it in my hands for a heartbeat, then sat down on my bed and set the computer on my lap.

My mouth still tasted of bile, distracting my thoughts. I had been in such a rush to call Wolf, but now that I was staring at the wrist computer, my hands refused to work.

_It'll still be here after I brush my teeth. _

That was important, fresh breath. I set the computer aside and fled to my bathroom to clean out my mouth. Of course, that took all of two minutes, so I went to the kitchen and drank a glass of water. Then I was right back on the bed, Wolf's device on my lap. It was the only thing—save for the trophy draped on my vanity mirror—tying me to him.

After opening the top, the buttons heated under the pads of my fingers. I lifted a hand, digits hovering just above the controls. All I had to do was touch the pad in the right sequence and he would head to Earth for me.

We would save that other predator together, then kill the xenomorphs in the lab. Their technology would be in safe hands. Then we would leave together.

Just had to put in the correct system and wait for him.

How long would it take? Would he show up at my apartment, or wherever the computer went? If I brought it to work with me, would he show up there? If he did show up at headquarters. . . .

I swallowed the image of him cutting down the other agents, the lab techs. I clenched my eyes shut against the brutal scene of my coworkers' limp bodies on the ground and headquarters in shambles. Broken and burning down.

Me, flanked by two violent aliens, at the forefront.

The cause of it all.

It was easy to _think_ about how I would free the predator, or how I would go about killing the xenos when it would be me doing most of the work. I would know my way around, how to get in without hurting a lot of people. With Wolf there, I knew it in my heart that there would be a ton of collateral damage. One or two people on my conscience I could cope with. . . the destruction of my entire workplace? Not that.

Most of all, my mind froze when I realized Devon would be caught up in the crossfire. He would likely be killed during the raid. Obnoxious, aggravating, always following me around. . . .

Sweet, caring Devon. The thought of him lying dead, the look of betrayal stuck permanently to his face. . . . I sucked in my breath and pushed the computer down to my kneecaps. I knew I had to do something; I couldn't just leave the predator there. I could. . .go at night, or tell Devon to stay away. Somehow I would find a way to convince him.

Once again my fingers hovered over the touch pad. A few simple swipes and Wolf would be on his way to my side.

My mind froze.

What was the sequence?

Doubt was replaced with alarm and my hands fluttered over the screen. Why couldn't I remember? It was right there, at the forefront of my brain. So close, like it was directly on my fingertips. A million thoughts raced through my mind like angry wasps, contingency plans—would our prisoner take me if I freed him? What was I going to do if something went horribly wrong and I _needed_ to call Wolf?

I smacked the sides of my head with my hands and closed my eyes shut. "No no no. You can remember it, it was right there, just calm down and _think_," I muttered to myself.

This _needed_ to happen. Maybe. I was confident I could destroy the xenos on my own, but I wasn't sure if I could rescue the predator by myself. That was an endeavor I might need Wolf for, but I could put it on the backburner until I gave it a shot myself. . . . If I did, he could help kill off the parasites we were studying.

Though, even if the predator at work was freed, he would be in no state to help destroy those xenos with me, and there was no doubt they needed to be eliminated. Despite how I felt about leaving my home planet, they were a menace and they were about to be moved across the country.

There was so much that could go _wrong_.

And if anything _did_ go wrong, I needed to be able to call for backup. As it was, the only back up I knew of was Wolf. I could send the predator home, not go with him, destroy the Xenos. . . .

Whatever. One step at a time. I could figure everything else out as it came up.

First thing's first—remember the god damned sequence. Then I would know what my plan was.

The computer's touch pad seemed flat at an initial glance, but it had seams to separate the different controls. I had learned the hard way not to touch them: even the slightest pressure caused activation. The year after I finished training I was a little too brave and ran my fingers over the buttons, causing the screen to light up with bright red letters. For hours I had been terrified that I'd set the explosive or called someone else to my planet.

Nothing happened, but after that I was extra careful. Each night I would go through the sequence to remind myself. Look, go through the motions, but don't touch.

So why couldn't I _fucking remember?_

The night's events had me wound up. I set the computer down and moved to my kitchen to get another drink. More water. I paced the apartment, changed my clothes, washed my face, then leaned over the sink in my bathroom. Eyes shut tight, I focused on keeping my breathing even.

I pictured in my mind's eye the first time Wolf showed me the sequence—his "phone number." I imagined the million times I went through it in the mornings before work. I tried to think. My daily itinerary went through my head, as did the songs I liked to listen to and the last movie that I had watched. It was a remake of some movie my dad loved.

It wasn't at the theaters, but I'd rented it from a RedBox to watch on my TV. I didn't have cable, and I mooched wifi off my neighbors, so I needed something to pass the time. I'd rented it because Dad had been talking about it when I called him. That was weeks ago, after I'd been allowed in to see the xenomorphs. I'd needed to talk to my family.

Dad—I spoke to him about as often as I spoke to Mom. He hardly ever brought up anything from the past, only wanted to know how my job was going. Mom always asked me if I was still having nightmares. If I was okay. Whether or not I still used a nightlight—hint: I didn't.

Taking a deep breath, I looked up at myself in the mirror. My usually pale face was reddened, eyes sunken in from exhaustion. It was only ten o'clock, but I felt like I'd been awake for days.

Epiphany struck out of nowhere and I remembered.

The bathroom light was left on in my rush to get to my room. I dove onto my bed and scrambled to get the computer in my hands, lest I forget again. I fumbled to pull the top open and then poised my fingers over the controls.

They flit across the pad like they'd been doing it my entire life. It forced a laugh of victory to my lips and I heaved a heavy sigh while rolling to my back, pressing my fist to my forehead. It had been there the whole time, I'd just been too keyed up. Like when you forget a word you use all the time—just a synapse misfiring.

I closed the computer, having ample time to convince myself I didn't need to call Wolf. Not yet, anyway. Not until I knew for sure I couldn't handle this on my own. The last thing I wanted was to level my entire building and cause the death of _everyone _in it, just because I was unsure.

It would be a last resort.

Wolf's computer was tucked away into my underwear drawer once again and I returned my delicates to their proper places, folding them with precise movements. I was still too wound up to sleep, though I knew I needed to. The best thing I could do was watch a couple movies to calm down.

Before starting up my copy of _Office Space_, I popped my sleep aids and a single Xanax to keep me level-headed. It had been years since I'd felt the need to take anti-anxiety meds, but now seemed like a good time.

By the time the movie ended, I felt relaxed enough to crawl into bed and attempt sleep. Maybe I shouldn't have mixed the residual alcohol and the narcotics, but whatever.

If I didn't wake up, that meant I wouldn't have to worry about aliens anymore.


	5. Sedated

**Hello readers!**

**Sorry I didn't get this up as soon as I said I might. We are understaffed at work so I'm getting a metric asston of hours and on top of that I have to go to PT for the accident I was in, and errands are never-ending. . . . The good news is my bearded dragon is doing much better. The bad news is I see no end to how busy I am, but I will try to work more. Stress is a hell of a thing. **

**Anyway, thanks to Citrine, as always, for being an excellent beta-er. If you haven't already, go check out her story _Alkaline_ and leave her a nice note! ****Also, a little birdie told me B.A. Gemar isn't feeling so hot! I hope you get well soon you beautiful person, you! Maybe leave her a nice note in one of her fics, too. ;D **

**Let me know what you think in the reviews, but please try not to leave spam! I have all reviews on auto-accept, but if the spam gets any worse I might have to change that and I really don't want to do that. That's too much work. However, I do read every review I get and the little email makes me happy! So do the emails telling me about new follows, so thank you all who are just now joining me! I hope I continue to live up to the things that made you follow!**

**~ Crayola**

* * *

Chapter Four

Sedated

Monday wasn't coming fast enough.

The _hours_ weren't passing quick enough.

Sleep, it seemed—or at least the feeling of being well-rested—was a distant memory. A luxury I couldn't afford. Even after taking my sleep aids I still woke up tired. All I wanted was to sleep for several more hours, but once I was up from going to the bathroom, my mind was already in another world and thinking about all the shit I had to do.

There were too many questions, too many tasks. Despite how much I wanted to sleep in until three in the afternoon, the queries wouldn't let me stay in bed past nine. Who? Why? How? The questions I would ask that I hadn't been able to ask Wolf. What was the chance this predator knew him?

_Don't be fucking racist_¸ I told myself. _Do all Asians know each other?_

In any case, I couldn't wait. I had to talk to him. Or at least try. I had said all that big talk about my scar, but I had no idea if it meant anything important enough to warrant speaking with me.

When I couldn't handle it anymore, I headed out to headquarters. Getting to and from work was a chore, but it was still better than buying a car and paying for gas. It was a block to the bus stop from my apartment, and then another two blocks to my building from where it dropped me off. A little exercise never hurt me. Made my legs sore on a cold day, but otherwise the walks were pleasant.

I marched faster than normal from my stop to the building. That caused a certain amount of pain, but I shoved it aside. When I was a block away, I decided I shouldn't arrive unannounced on my day off, so I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed the number.

Had to keep it short and sweet. I didn't want to deal with an extra bill so I only owned a prepaid phone, buying minutes when I needed them.

The other line rang for a while before someone picked up. "Jacobs," they said.

His name wasn't familiar, nor was his voice. Probably a weekend pencil pusher I'd never met. "This is Nichole Shain, is Dixon there?"

"Dixon's always here."

"Put him on the phone."

"He's downstairs, might take a while."

Sighing, I closed my eyes. Yelling at this guy wouldn't solve anything. "Alright well, just find him and tell him I'm coming in today."

Jacobs paused. "You have a case or something you're working on?"

"No, I'm just coming to talk to him. Make sure he's ready for me." I turned the corner and had to wait to cross the street.

"Yeah, okay. See you in a minute, I guess?"

I nodded, even though he couldn't see. "Yup, see ya."

He didn't say good-bye—_rude—_and the line went dead. I pocketed my phone and power-walked the rest of the way to the building. When I made it up to the offices, Dixon was waiting. I had expected I would have to hunt him down myself, but apparently this Jacobs guy was efficient.

"What is it, Nichole?" Dixon demanded.

"Let me see him."

The director stared at me for a moment, then sighed. "I told you to wait until Monday."

"I can't wait, sir," I said, tipping my head up and trying to look firm but respectful. "I want to talk to him. I _need_ to talk to him."

"Why?"

Despite my attempt at composure, I still found myself fidgeting where I stood. This was something I hadn't thought about. Well I _had,_ but an idea had yet to present itself to me.

"Ms. Shain, why do you need to see it right away?"

Guess I was winging it.

My teeth cut into my lip, almost drawing blood. I said, "I have questions, and I know you all do too. The difference is that I'm the one who's going to be able to get answers."

Dixon paused, then spoke. "I understand that, but I only just put the paperwork through. It won't be finalized until tomorrow night or Monday morning. You aren't technically part of the team, and Mr. Hassan is pissed that I even showed you that thing last night."

"This Mr. Hassan is who I'm going to be working under?" I asked, my hand up to pause the conversation.

"Yes."

"Okay, so then, is he here? Why don't I just talk to him? Or would Mr. Hassan rather attempt to _torture_ our prisoner in order to get information?" I couldn't keep the bitterness from my voice and I regretted as soon as I was finished speaking.

Dixon raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. "That's worked for years. They don't have rights like humans do and the aliens we capture are usually _vicious_."

"_All_ of them?" For a moment I forgot I was talking to my boss and was a little too snide.

"We have not met a single alien that's wanted to be cooperative."

My arms mirrored his crossed-arm stance. "Out of how many, exactly?"

His expression hardened and he tapped his foot on the floor. "Seven different races."

The number caught me by surprise and I reeled. Seven? I had met two personally and I knew of one other, so that left two more? My arms dropped to my sides and I put a hand to my head. "Are you fucking serious?" The words were a whisper on my lips.

"You are not doing a good job of getting me on your side, Nichole."

I tensed when he dropped my proper name and leaned away from him. Cowed, I lowered my head and stilled my heart rate. "Sorry, sir. I got a little. . .emotional. I would really appreciate it if you could get me in as soon as possible. I need to talk to him."

_Privately_, I thought. However, I knew better than to ask.

Dixon spent a moment rubbing his face before he spoke. "How would you even talk to it? The only noises it was reported to make were roars and snarls. What if it doesn't understand English?"

"They have a language, I've spoken to them before, remember? Just give him his mask."

"What good will that do?"

"I think that's how the one I met understood me." I narrowed my eyes. "What harm would it cause to _not_ give it to him?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. But will it work without his wrist computer?"

That, I hadn't thought of. It brought me to a pause and I could do nothing but grimace. "I don't honestly know. There's only one way to find out, though."

We stared at each other for a spell, but at last Dixon gave in. He ran his hand over the back of his head and exhaled. "Well we already know the mask retains some use. It was having breathing problems so we put the mask back on and it seemed to get better. Who knows what else the thing can do, though. We haven't been able to test it because we need him to breathe. . . ."

"That is important," I muttered.

Dixon glanced at me and I pursed my lips. He continued. "As soon as we figure out what he breathes, we'll rig a system for him and test the mask. For now though it'll do."

"So then. . .I can give it a try?"

"How do you plan on understanding it? I assume the mask only translates what it hears and not what it speaks, right?" he clarified.

I nodded. "I'll still have to play charades to know what he's saying, but otherwise I should be able to talk to him. I mean. . .with him tied down it'll be a little difficult for me to know what he's trying to say. . . ."

"Uh uh," Dixon grunted, shaking his head. "Not happening. He stays tied up."

Heat rose to my cheeks and my shoulders tensed. "I _wasn't asking."_

"Good. Because it won't happen." He looked around the office, then sighed and rubbed his head again. "You're sure this'll work?"

I wasn't, but it _had_ to work. "Yes, sir."

He shook his rubbed his mouth with his hand. "Look, I'll see what I can do. It's only partially up to me. Let me go make some calls to the team and see if the scientists don't mind, then I'll come get you, alright?"

Somehow I managed not to jump for joy or fist pump into the air. "Thank you, sir! That's good enough for me, thank you."

"Just sit at your desk and wait. You got anything to do today?."

_Buy food._

"No sir, I have all the time in the world."

Dixon shook his head as he walked away and I could imagine he was muttering to himself. I waited for him to disappear down the hallway to the elevators before I swung by my desk and sat in the chair. I wasn't sure where this Jacobs person was I had spoken to over the phone, but he wasn't on the office floor.

A lifetime passed before Dixon came back up and found me at my desk. I'd powered up my computer and played solitaire—scratch that, lost at solitaire—the entire time. When I saw him coming, I rushed to shut down everything and acted attentive.

"So?" I asked before he could say a word, holding myself up in mid-stand over my chair. I realized how eager I might look and sat back down.

"They said it's okay, so let's go," he sniffed, beckoning me.

Standing was excruciating while trying not to move like I was on fire. I managed to follow Dixon with some dignity into the elevator to the labs.

He held an earpiece out to me and I stared at it like I'd never seen one before. "What's this?"

"Put it on. Hassan will want to feed you questions we'll need a way to stay in contact with you without letting the predator know what we're saying."

With some hesitation, I plucked the tech from his hand and fit it around my ear. I wasn't dressed for business—wearing jeans and a t-shirt instead of my business suit—and it made me self-conscious. "I was hoping to have some privacy with him," I admitted.

"I figured. I can't get you complete privacy, but no one expects you to be ready for another twenty minutes. You have until then."

Surprise and gratitude fought for dominance inside me and I stared at Dixon, stunned.

"Thank you, sir," I said, touched by his forethought.

He rolled his shoulders. "You owe me one, Shain."

I nodded and turned my eyes frontward when he wouldn't look at me. I thought I saw a hint of a blush creeping up his neck, but I might have imagined it. When the doors opened, we remained silent and he led me first to the observation room instead of examination.

"What are we doing?" I asked, somehow able to keep the concern from my voice.

"Gotta check to make sure that earpiece is on and set a few ground rules," he said, unlocking the door and leading me inside. The first thing I realized was that we weren't alone—another woman was inside, leaning against a single crutch.

"What are you doing here, Morgan? Shouldn't you be at home resting? Who let you in?" Dixon asked. Despite it, though, he didn't stop walking until he was standing at the middle computer in a row of them.

"I had to see it, make sure you all had it under control and wasn't wasting my efforts. You don't exactly lock the front doors, I let myself in."

Unease kept me rooted in place near the entrance and I glanced from Dixon to this new woman—Morgan, had he said? Finally Dixon looked up from the computer he was standing over and stared at me, confused. The woman had yet to look at me; she hadn't even glanced away from the predator when Dixon addressed her upon entering.

He held his hand out, as if suddenly remembering something. "Shain, this is K.B. Morgan. Morgan, Nichole Shain. She and her partner Devon Hart will be the newest additions to your taskforce."

Finally the woman turned around. Besides a single large bruise under her cheek—I assumed she had been punched—and a few butterfly bandages across her right eyebrow, she didn't seem too injured. I assumed she had to have injuries unseen.

Though she leaned against a crutch, her favored left leg wasn't in a cast. Perhaps a sprain.

She was maybe six or seven years my senior. Short blond hair framed a sun-kissed face and it was the same luscious color that Michelle's had been, though Michelle fancied longer hair. I felt a pang go through my chest but I ignored it. Besides the short hair, Morgan looked like how I imagined Michelle would have if she'd lived past her high teen years. Give or take the thousand-yard stare that said "I've seen some shit."

It was in that regard I saw a little bit of myself in her, too.

I remembered my manners and reached out to shake her hand. "I look forward to working with you," I said.

She smiled and accepted my gesture. "You as well, Nichole."

Dixon stood at his computer, shoulders tense and his hands clasped behind his back. "Morgan here has been on the force for six years and is the one who brought us the thing you see in there."

My mind was drawn back to my original purpose and I looked toward the window. He was still strapped to the table, but this time he had his mask concealing his face. Everything else, though—his armor and wrist computer—were still missing.

"You apprehended him?" I didn't look at her as I asked the question.

Morgan shrugged. "He almost killed me before the sedatives could kick in. He _did_ kill my teammates, though."

"Yeah I, uh, heard about that." I dipped my head in respect.

"The hardest part was dragging him to extraction. He weighs a fuckton."

I grinned. "Is that a technical phrase? Fuckton?" The jibe was meant to hide how impressed I was. I couldn't imagine trying to drag Wolf anywhere, let alone if I was injured.

"It should be," she snorted.

Remembering myself, I turned to Dixon and asked, "So I can get in there with him?"

"What?" Morgan rounded a stunned look at me. "You _want_ to be in the same room as that thing? What in the ever-living hell for?"

Before I could answer, Dixon offered an explanation. "Shain is the one I was telling you about."

She furrowed her brow and, after a few seconds of thought, said, "You mean she's the one from the Estes Park incident?"

Dixon nodded.

Realization loosened her features and she made an O shape with her mouth. "Ah, the one who was caught with the predator. Hadn't been on the taskforce very long when that happened. You. . .want to talk to it."

I nodded and changed the subject. "What happened to your leg?"

When I gestured with my hand, she tipped her chin back. "This is nothing, just a bad sprain in my knee after the big guy took me down. The worst I got was a broken rib."

One of her wounds unseen.

"So. . . may I?" I urged, giving Dixon a significant look before discreetly nodding my head toward our companion.

He glanced between the two of us then sighed. "Yes. I'm afraid you're going to have to leave, Morgan. It was the doctor's orders you get the rest." Dixon squared his shoulders, but still managed to look apologetic underneath the authority.

Morgan shrugged. "Yeah I'm hungry anyway. It was nice meeting you."

"You, too." I smiled and watched her make her way out the room before I turned to Dixon and took a straightened my back.

A microphone was set up by his monitor and he leaned toward it. "Can you hear me?"

His voice rang in stereo and I nodded. "Loud and clear."

"Good." Dixon said, walking out from behind his computer. "Alright, he's sedated enough that he can't move well, but he should be able to communicate. There's an armed guard at the door, he'll let you in. Just go down the hall back the way you came, and take your first left."

"You said there was a rule?"

"Ah, yes." He turned toward the predator on the table. "You'll have to leave before the others arrive. They may not be happy if they catch you in there without them to watch."

"Who all's coming?" I didn't want an audience, but it was clear it wasn't up to me.

"Some scientists and Mr. Hassan, mostly. He might bring a few of his higher-ranked members."

I wanted to ask more, but I wasn't sure how much time I'd wasted of the allotted twenty minutes. I nodded and turned on my heel to head out of the observation room and into the hallway to follow Dixon's directions.

As he said, a man wearing a heavy black vest and holding a rifle marked the entrance to the lab. I wondered why it was so far away, but deemed it insignificant enough to dwell on. I made sure to slow my approach and look professional. He turned toward me and I showed my badge before speaking. "Agent Shain, I trust Dixon told you what's going on?"

"Yeah. Don't be in there too long. The sedative wears off a lot quicker with him."

I acknowledged the tip with a nod and faced the door. He unlocked and opened it for me, bathing me in the white, sterile light from the lab. My insides quivered, but I steeled my nerves and stepped inside the room.

The door closed behind me and I was aware that I was alone. The sound of the lock stirred the predator before me and I held my breath, waiting.

When he finally realized what I was, he strained against his bindings and roared.

My heart nearly shattered at the sight of what should have been a formidable creature struggling so much. His roar wasn't even at the decibel I remembered Wolf's being. It was like seeing a lion or a tiger stuck in a tiny cage.

However, I kept my composure and swallowed my pity. He wouldn't accept pity.

At least he still had fight in him. It gave me some hope.

"Easy," I said, raising my hands. "I'm on your side."

Unconvinced, he rattled his bonds and I couldn't help but think that under normal circumstances he would have destroyed them as if they were made of paper and freed himself. He attempted another roar and I sighed. The only good thing about him being tied up was that I was free to approach and show him my scar without fear of being crushed.

"I'm coming closer," I told him. Whether he understood or not, I moved toward him.

He made an awful ruckus despite his weakened state, but I stopped outside of arm's reach of his table and took a deep breath. "I told you, I'm on your side."

His shoulder rocked and I waited for him to calm down before I moved my hair and showed him the mark Wolf had left me those years ago. It had been so long, and I felt a pang of guilt deep in my chest—I had so little to show for it. What had I been doing?

"See? One of yours."

The predator stiffened and remained still for several seconds before his head slowly tilted and he let out a curious chitter. If I hadn't known to listen for the subtle noises his species made, I would have missed it. Still, he calmed further and I even saw the muscles in his shoulders relax and his bonds slackened into position.

I, too, relaxed and let my shirt fall back into place. "Can you understand me?"

A single nod. I straightened up and said, "The one who gave this mark to me, his name was. . . ."

Finding the name in my memory banks was easy. Pronouncing it was the biggest issue. I worked my tongue for a moment, then just dove in and gave it a shot. "Shak'it'lar. . .chalk'ar. I don't know, something like that."

His body shook with that same enraging chuckle Wolf had and I heard the deep grumble from his mask. "Sha'ktil-ar."

Hearing Wolf's name sent a tremor up my spine and I leaned forward. "Do you know him?"

He shook his head with a snort and I rocked back into my previous position. Of course not. It was just a name. For all I knew it was a very common name, or a certain phrase. If someone asked me how to pronounce a name I'd probably know what they were talking about, too. Still, I'd been hoping he knew him. Then I could figure out how he was doing.

I chewed on my lip for a minute. I'd had so many questions, but now that I was face to face with another predator my train of thought derailed so violently I was sure Dixon heard it from the other room. I shifted my weight from foot to foot until the words came to me.

"Do you have a mark like this?"

He nodded his head once and tilted it to the side, maybe indicating to something. However, it was good enough to know that he had one. It didn't matter _where_ it was.

"Did you get it fighting those xeno—um. . .the black things. Big, angry, long heads like this?" I pantomimed a long head with both hands. I felt ridiculous and put my hands back down by my side, glancing toward the one-way mirror Dixon was behind. "Acid for blood?"

Another nod. My heart lifted and I closed my eyes. So it had been what I'd thought—something to recognize my achievement. I opened my eyes again and caught him staring at the mirror. I followed his gaze and addressed Dixon. "Can he see through the mirror?" I figured he could hear me, but I wasn't certain. This was a perfect time to test and figure out what I was safe talking about with our. . .guest.

Dixon answered through my earpiece and I deflated. _"He shouldn't be able to. Thermal vision can't see through walls. It doesn't work like that."_

The way our guest was staring at the wall, I was pretty sure he was wrong. I turned to the predator and motioned toward the mirror. That mask could do a lot of things, I knew. "Can you see the man on the other side of that wall?"

_"Nichole, god dammit, don't let him know!"_

Our captive guest shook his head, but not in the negative. It was more smug, the movement shaking his tresses and shoulders. I'd seen Wolf do the same thing when he killed something particularly difficult, or when I caught on to what he was trying to teach me.

Despite the embarrassment of being rebuked by Dixon, I still couldn't help the smirk that tugged at my lips. He had tricked me into giving it away.

It was only a matter of time before he got himself out of here.

_"Nichole. . . . For fuck's sake. . . ." _

It had been a double-edged sword. Maybe I had given away we were being watched, but I'd figured out that Dixon could hear what I said in the room as well.

I was certain it wasn't because of my earpiece: I had no microphone to speak though. That meant he had to be listening through the comm. I could maybe get away with whispering, but it seemed safer to not say anything that could get me into trouble.

Like telling him I would help him escape.

His responses were becoming clearer, his movements more precise. The sedatives were wearing off and I wondered if this would be my time to get him out.

No, maybe not.

"What is—" I stopped myself mid-question and pursed my lips. Asking what his species was could have been a question the taskforce wanted me to ask. I couldn't let them know I had already been in here with him, so I put the question on the back-burner along with what his name was. I doubted he would tell me, though, even if I was marked.

"The one I was with. . .Sha'ktil-ar," I slowed down to pronounce his name right, but the execution was still sloppy. "he showed me a collection of skulls. You guys use them as a sort of ranking system, yes?"

The predator glanced at the mirror and I scratched my head in defeat. Getting answers would be a little more difficult now that he knew we had an audience.

"This is for me, not for him," I insisted, pointing.

He pulled against his restraints so suddenly I took a step back in surprise. He thrashed and I placed my hand on my chest.

His message was clear. "Let me out." Then he'd be free to answer my questions.

Until then, he didn't want his prey to know anything about their culture. Chances were he'd already answered too much before he realized what was going on.

I chanced a look back at the mirror and decided to try something. I had to warn this predator about what was going on, but I had to make sure Dixon wouldn't be able to hear me do it. Taking a deep breath, I stepped a little closer to the table, angled my back toward the mirror, and whispered, "Can you hear me?"

The words were barely audible even to my own ears.

Dixon said nothing through the tech and I waited to see a reaction from the predator. After a moment, he nodded once and I relaxed.

"I'm going to try to get you out of here," I said in undertone, making a show of pacing by the table. I kept my hand up, playing with my hair or scratching my face, to disguise my lips moving. "I don't have much power here, but I'll do my best."

_"You okay, Nichole?"_ Dixon's voice startled me but I held my composure in front of the predator, thank my lucky stars. For an instant I was afraid he'd heard me, but it wasn't the case.

"Yes," I said, lifting my hand to the earpiece. "I just. . .I forgot my other questions."

_"Well, all for the best. Mr. Hassan will be down with his crew any minute. Hopefully you got what you needed."_

Not really, but close enough.

I dropped my hand and turned back to the predator. "I'll be back in a minute," I said. He cocked his head to one side and followed me as I walked to the door, knocking on it. The guard outside unlocked it and let me out, and I looked back at the predator once.

Hoping he could memorize where the door was.

"Didn't make that much noise. Was he awake?" the guard asked, locking up behind us.

"I have the magic touch." I flashed a cheeky smile and hurried down the hallway to meet up with Dixon again. I tried not to turn my gaze behind me, but found it difficult. There was so much more I wanted to know, but it was going to have to wait for a time when I could be alone with him. If only I hadn't said anything, he never would have known Dixon was there watching. . . .

All the way down the hallway and into observation I was kicking myself for being fooled like that. Glad that he was lucid enough to resort to trickery, but still unhappy it had ruined my chance. Who knew when I would get another one?

It might have been for the best. The more he knew about his situation, the better it would be when I tried to spring him.

I had to figure out what exactly they were doing to him—what kind of sedatives did they have him on? Were they using muscle relaxants?—then I would have an easier time getting him out. What should I prioritize? His escape or killing the xenos?

There I was, thinking too far ahead again. One task at a time, Nichole.

Wait for this Hassan guy. Interrogate the predator some more. Then decide what my next course of action was.


	6. Peace of Mind

**Hello readers!**

**I'm really sorry about the wait again. This chapter was absolutely miserable to write and I was having a really hard time with it. I managed to power through and get it done, though! It's gone through a fair bit of edits ala Citrine, so hopefully it's better. I've read it through a few times but some typos might have slipped through, and I apologize if that's true. I'm sure if there's anything glaring wrong Citrine will tell me and I'll edit rofl.**

**Anyway, I hope that the following chapters will be a little faster between updates! Some exciting stuff is gonna be happening, so look forward to it! ****I've had a lot of fun reading your comments and theories. Thanks so much for sticking with me. I appreciate all the support!**

**~ Crayola**

* * *

Chapter Five

Peace of Mind

In the minutes we spent waiting for the supervisors to arrive, Dixon continued to glance at me on occasion. I ignored it for the most part, assuming him concerned.

If he had anything to say, he never said it.

Mr. Hassan found us sitting in silence as he entered observation. The sound of the door opening lifted my gaze from the floor. My hands, once holding my head, fell to my lap. When Dixon stood, I followed his lead and hovered behind him.

"Dixon, good afternoon," Mr. Hassan said, shaking Dixon's hand with both of his. He smile was too-white against his dark complexion and he spoke with the hint of an accent.

A man and a woman flanked him as he entered. Both wore neutral expressions; the man was carrying a clipboard and wearing a white lab coat, and the woman was in a sharp-looking suit. Glasses obscured both of their faces.

"Joseph," Dixon said, his smile just as wide, "good to see you again. How's Lucy?"

"Good, good. Still hasn't learned not to jump on the counter, but we're working on it."

I stared between the two of them, brow furrowed. This guy was training his wife not to jump on the counters? What?

Dixon shrugged. "You tried the squirt bottle? That's how we trained our cats when I was young."

Oh.

Mr. Hassan nodded and rubbed his mouth, his face covered in stubble. "Yes, but the crazy thing just keeps coming back. I think she likes it."

"Well that's unfortunate!" Dixon said with a laugh.

Pleasantries exchanged, I cleared my throat to be noticed. Mr. Hassan glanced over at me and brushed past Dixon, his arms up. "Ah yes! Nichole, I've heard good things about you! I have to say, though, I wasn't prepared for your ambition."

"Why's that?" I asked, trying hard not to make it sound like a challenge.

"I expected to have your orientation on Monday, but you're very eager."

Heat crept across my cheeks but I maintained eye contact. "I know. I wanted the closure and I thought you all would want answers right away."

He put a hand on my shoulder and spoke with a warm voice. "I can understand that. We appreciate you being so willing to help. Anything we can do to get the information we need without causing undo stress on our important guest."

I nodded and he dropped his hand before turning to his companions.

"These are my close associates, Jamison Blanco and Susan Kinnaps. Jamison is head of research and development. Very knowledgeable."

Jamison inclined his head in greeting. "I look forward to picking your brain later."

"Likewise," I said. No one offered to shake my hand, so I remained where I stood. The atmosphere was too casual for my comfort and bordered on aloof.

"Susan is my personal aid. She does everything I do so there is no need to clone myself." He chuckled and Susan offered a terse smile in reply—she was in the middle of cleaning her glasses. "She'll oversee everything that has to do with the extraterrestrial and leave me to fill out the necessary paperwork."

She replaced her spectacles and glanced at me. Despite her hawk-like glare, her voice was pleasant. _Resting bitch-face. _"We're all very excited to have you on the team."

I'd thought the pleasantries over with, so I struggled to keep my smile genuine and my voice as amicable as the others'. I hoped that the conversation would end soon and I could get back to my reason for being there on a Saturday. "Glad to be here."

Mr. Hassan turned to his side and held a hand up. "Alright, now that everyone is acquainted, why don't I give you the basic tour and get it out of the way? You can show your partner—Devon, was his name?—around when he's next in. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer having the time off?" The comment was accompanied by too much cheer.

"I'll still have tomorrow and the rest of today." I shrugged. "Well, depending on how long it takes to get out of here."

He turned and grinned at me. "Yes, I suppose so. Having already detained the creature, our ground-team will have a little more downtime from now on, anyway. However, employees like poor Jamison will be here the majority of the time now, won't you?"

The scientist chuckled without humor. "Yes, I'm afraid I'll be living here for the next few weeks."

"We all will be," Susan pointed out.

All three shared good-natured laughs, Dixon joining in as well. I shifted my weight from foot to foot, but participated in the half-forced merriment to avoid being left out. I hadn't been expecting this: friendly conversation. Sure, I expected general introductions and exchanges, but I thought they would have been more business-like. In and out. I wanted to be in with the predator again, not making new friends with these people.

"Well," I said, sensing a lull and pouncing on the opportunity, "I don't do much with my days off anyway. Might as well work. Will I do the interrogation after the tour?"

"After?" Mr. Hassan repeated. He hadn't stopped smiling and it made my skin crawl. "Oh, no. I decided we'll let that wait until Monday. We'll get your initial orientation out of the way now so you can speak with him first thing when you get in. Jamison has work to do with it and. . . ."

I stopped listening and had to catch myself before interrupting. Had he said I wouldn't be seeing the predator today?

When I glanced at Dixon for back-up, I caught his gaze and we locked eyes for a moment. His brow furrowed so infinitesimally I might have imagined it. There was an intensity there and I found it difficult to hold his scrutiny for more than a few seconds. I looked away, my heart pounding, and was left wondering what that was about.

As I raised my hand to flatten out my hair, I brushed against the earpiece still there. I had been careful, made sure that Dixon couldn't hear, but could he? Had he heard my whispers?

No, no that wasn't possible.

But I had made several other mistakes over the past few days. I could only hope he hadn't started to put the pieces together.

So far he hadn't shown signs. . .why now? Had I missed them?

"Nichole?"

My head snapped toward Mr. Hassan and I looked around at the faces pointed at my direction. "Sorry, what?"

Mr. Hassan's didn't miss a beat and his expression became knowing. "I know you must be disappointed, but there are certain protocols. I was planning to suspend them, but Susan convinced me to stick to the plan. We will orientate you today, paperwork will be finalized early Monday morning, and by then Jamison should have a functional breathing apparatus made so that we may take away that mask without risking the predator's life."

Though the words made sense, the delivery was simplistic and felt chastising. I turned away to glower at the floor, my petulant child leaking through the professionalism I tried to uphold.

"Now, leave the earpiece down here—thank you for getting her set up, Dixon—and we'll begin the tour of your new office," Mr. Hassan said, voice upbeat again. He held a hand up and when I hesitated to do as I was told, his head tilted half an inch and his brow creased. An edge entered his voice. "Go on, put it down."

Goosebumps prickled my skin and I hastened to remove the device from around my ear, dropping it down onto the counter with a dull sound—the closest thing to belligerence I could perform without rebuke.

The darkness left my new boss' face and he turned to the exit. "Excellent! Let us commence!"

I managed to make one last glance in the direction of the predator. He was tugging at his bindings and I could hear faint snarls, even though the comm was not engaged. As I left after Dixon and Hassan, Susan took up residence at a computer.

"Put him back under." If Jamison said more after that, it was after the door closed behind me.

*:･ﾟ✧

The new offices were two floors above Dixon's, and they were already on the fifth floor of the building that the public saw. There were at least six levels of basements and two more floors towering over the predator task force offices.

However, they were identical.

Mr. Hassan escorted me through the empty cubicles and desks, naming off people I wouldn't remember until I'd had a chance to meet them. He even went so far as to point out the desks that belonged to the deceased. Two of which now belonged to Devon and I. I tried to memorize where Morgan's desk was, but I wouldn't need to remember when she was deemed healthy enough to return to work.

Despite Mr. Hassan's attempts at making friends, I couldn't help but feel sour toward him and his overly-friendly demeanor and the fact that he'd gone back on his word.

Well, he'd gone back on _Dixon's_ word.

If I thought about it I realized that I had already asked my personal questions and I didn't really _need_ to speak with the predator. However, I also knew that I was the only thing between him and torture. On top of it all, it had been so long since I'd been in the same vicinity as his kind.

Hassan led me onward, oblivious to my ire.

"When you get your new keycard you'll have access to the area downstairs and be free to watch what happens down there as you please. I extend the same courtesy to everyone on the team. I'm aware you already had access to the xenomorphs?" Mr. Hassan asked as we walked.

"Yes."

"Okay, we'll retain your access to the observation room on that level, as well. Unfortunately, you won't have actual admittance to the research labs, only scientists will."

"Understandable."

"Now, while I mentioned agents will have more freedom, that unfortunately will most likely not be the case for you. You will be effectively on call, free to do whatever you like until we call on you at any point during the day—or night," he said, unlocking the door to his personal office. He allowed me to enter first.

"What kind of things will I have to do?"

He sat down in his chair and motioned toward the one in front of his desk. I sat down with some pause. "Anything we ask, of course. While you are not our leading authority on this species, you are the only one who is on somewhat friendly terms. You will be an advisor of sorts while he is in our possession."

His words set my teeth on edge. "You say that like he's an object and not an actual sentient being with feelings."

_Shut up, Nichole. _

"Ah, yes, apologies," he said, raising his hands and ducking his head. "You're right. I didn't mean for it to sound that way. You must understand though, while you may have had generally pleasant interaction with this species—"

I raised my eyebrow at him and he cleared his throat. "Ah, I mean. . .directly. I'm sure that whole incident was _unpleasant_. I merely meant that—"

"Yes, I know what you meant. I haven't had one hunt me or kill my teammates."

"Exactly. We don't think of them quite as fondly as you do. I hope that despite that, though, you can move forward with some objectivity. We want first and foremost to learn about their kind. I, for one, am not looking for revenge against them and hold my employees to the same standard."

But how many of them longed for vengeance in secret?

He leaned forward and straightened his pen holder. "At the very least Morgan doesn't seem upset about the whole thing. We'll still have the resident therapist speak with her. I'm sure you're familiar with Ava?"

Nodding, I said, "Yes. We still talk occasionally."

"Good. We always have all of our agents see her at some point after particularly trying missions. Near-death experiences tend to wreak havoc on one's psyche. But I don't have to tell you that."

The muscle in my jaw tightened and I started tapping my foot. Though I couldn't put my finger on why, I knew everything he said had a double meaning. "No, you don't. I'll do my best to set aside my bias and help us learn what we can about them."

Mr. Hassan rubbed his hands together and grinned. "Good, I'm glad!"

Somehow I managed to return his smile.

"Now," he said, pushing away from his desk and pulling open a drawer. "I have some homework for you over the weekend."

I reached across and took the huge file he handed me, flipping through it. At first glance I saw many written notes, witness testimonies, pictures, and initial lab reports. If anything good came out of this, it would be how much I learned about Wolf's kind.

"I'll be sure to read through it all," I said, setting the folder in my lap.

A hefty order: it had to weigh a pound or two.

"Good, good." His words were punctuated by the sound of his drawer closing. "I've made a copy for your partner as well and will call him in to pick it up later today."

It seemed I could put "tree murderer" on the checklist for this guy.

"For now that will do, though. I'll give you today and tomorrow to read that and do what you need to in order to shake away what loyalties you think you have to these things." It was subtle, but his pleasant voice shifted. His smile, which up to that point had almost never left his face, receded. I leaned back in my seat and swallowed hard.

The moment was fleeting and all at once his grin had returned. Had I imagined it? Had it merely been my guilty conscience reading too deep? I looked away from him and busied myself with flipping through the file.

"I'll do my best to help you and your team out to the best of my ability."

He nodded and stood up from his seat. "I have great expectations for you and Devon. As I said, your paperwork should be done Monday. I'll see you then."

I followed his lead and for the first time since we'd met, we shook hands. "Thank you, sir."

"Please, call me Joseph."

*:･ﾟ✧

It was a surprise when a rut didn't form in my floor with how methodical I was about pacing between the breakfast bar, around my couch, and back again. There could be no more plotting, no more waiting. I would have to do something soon. Between my half-remembered drunken ramblings and the risks I'd taken to get in with the predator, I had raised suspicions.

How high I'd raised them I wasn't sure, but it was undeniable.

I had fucked up.

The trip on the bus had been excruciating. As much as I'd wanted to read the thick-as-shit folder Hassan had given me (though he'd told me to call him by his first name it still didn't settle well with me), I had been too busy thinking about all the things I'd done wrong and found myself reading several lines over and over without retaining the information.

Forcing myself into that room, letting my emotions run wild.

Trying to be sly and letting the predator know—_while _I was being supervised—that I was on his side. Though, I still wasn't one hundred percent sure Dixon was aware of that.

He sure acted like he thought something was up, though.

At least I had managed to get in. It sated my hunger and I was sure I could hold off until Monday. I kept telling myself it was so they wouldn't have to torture the predator to make him talk, but I knew deep in my heart I wanted to be close to another one.

And. . . he was my ticket off this planet. He was my ticket to killing the hive of xenos locked up in the basement.

How much time did I even have? A month? Some company had paid off the right people or had enough power to claim a stake to the xenomorphs. They were going to be moved out to California for some reason. . . . To turn their hide into armor and weaponize their acid. Something like that.

No, I couldn't dally any longer. The time clock was ticking and I didn't know how far it was from winding down completely.

The file Hassan had given me was on the breakfast bar, taunting me. I'd been home for a total of forty-five minutes but I'd been too worried to so much as sit down, let alone focus long enough to read anything in it. I was on edge and afraid I'd been found out. How closely would they watch me now? Was I going to have to act on Monday?

Could I even do everything in one day? Free the predator whose name I still hadn't learned _and_ destroy the xenos? I wouldn't be able to do one without doing the other quickly afterwards.

Maybe my best bet _was_ flashing the lab.

Forget the excuse that I wanted to complete the task honorably. No one would know, least of all Wolf. No matter how I did it I wasn't going to be able to bring home any trophies or have any proof of how noble the battle was.

That was all it was—a crutch to fall back on. I reason to stall a little longer.

All that mattered now was that the deed was done.

If I could find a way to clear all the personnel inside before flashing the lab, I could minimize casualties. Fire alarm? Rushing in and chasing them out at gunpoint?

I should take the bus all the way back and do it right then, while—no, even if the agents weren't there, the research teams and similar employees would be there. As far as the R&amp;D department was concerned, weekends didn't exist anymore. They had too much to learn.

But I'd wasted so much time. I couldn't waste more.

A voice in the back of my head nagged at me. It started as a seed as I ruminated in my apartment, growing and feeding off of my unease and uncertainty.

_You only made up the xenomorph excuse because you were scared_.

The thought blossomed into a flowering weed and I pressed my hands to my head, squeezing as if the action would vacate that poisonous implication.

_You didn't _want_ to go with him. You were grasping at straws._

No matter how hard I tried to deny my own subconscious, I couldn't shake it. In the course of several hours my entire world had been shattered. Aliens—near deaths—loss of my friends. In the end, I was returned to my home and I was feeling safe. Wolf had shown up _in my house_, with the rest of my family around. I couldn't deny the fact that going with him terrified me.

But was I really basing my entire life around the possibility of meeting him again if I _didn't want_ to go with him? If it had all been an excuse to make Wolf leave without me, then why would I have gone through the trouble of _getting the job_?

That couldn't be it.

No, no I couldn't accept the fact that I was _scared_. I wasn't stalling. I hadn't come upon the right circumstances yet. Simple as that. I squashed the nagging voice in my head and drowned it with the last of my milk, smothered it with a cheese sandwich.

Finally I decided I needed to distract myself. I was dangerously low on food, so at last I made a trip to the grocery store. I never bought too much at a time because taking home groceries on a bus was a pain in the ass, but at least I'd be able to eat for a few days. I didn't spend my money on anything else and I had no social life, so I didn't mind going shopping every few days.

An hour after I had everything put away, someone knocked on my door. I placed my still-frozen dinner back in the freezer and stared at my entryway. I never had guests. Or solicitors.

Ever.

After some hesitation and deliberation, another knock reached my ears. I sighed and headed over, swinging my door open with more vehemence than was necessary, scanning the front for who would possibly be bothering me on a Saturday evening.

"Devon?"

Though startled, he grinned and lifted up an identical manila folder to the one sitting on my counter, girth and all. "Hey, little birdy told me you already stopped by and picked up your 'homework'? Hope it's okay I dropped in. I tried calling but you never answer your phone."

I glanced toward my living area, but couldn't immediately find the phone. I sighed. My cellphone was forgotten so much I wasn't sure why I even bothered buying one. I really needed to fix that, especially if Hassan was going to be calling me at all hours of the week.

"That's pretty stalkerish. What if I was out?" I asked, leaning against my doorframe.

He raised his eyebrows at me. "You suddenly pick up a life over the past twenty-four hours?"

Rolling my eyes, I stepped aside, leaving the portal open. I gestured with my hand and said, "Whatever, just get in here I guess."

"I bet you already read through that file three times, haven't you?" he said as he entered.

"No." I slipped past him and picked up a stray glass from my coffee table and moved it to the kitchen sink.

"Really?" He remained in the entryway for a moment. "Should I take my shoes off?"

My apartment was deceptively clean because of the lack of actual belongings and the fact that I used the space to sleep and eat. All of my time was spent at work or watching old DVDs and keeping the place organized.

Didn't want to disappear off the face of the planet and leave a giant mess behind. The more mystery, the better.

That was what I told myself, but really I had nothing better to do.

"Do whatever, leave 'em on, take 'em off. . .make yourself at home." I said with an errant wave. The glass graduated from sink to dishwasher after a quick rinse and I snatched the folder off the counter and sat down on my single chair, folding one leg over the leg to use as a table. Despite the perfectly good coffee table in front of me, as it was.

Devon looked around and I furrowed my brow. "What?"

"You only have one chair?"

"Oh shit." I moved to the dining room table and slapped the folder down on top of it. "Sorry, I don't have guests often. We'll sit here and do our homework together."

Even though he put his copies on the table, he didn't sit and I hesitated as well. "Have you eaten yet today?" he asked me.

I shook my head. "I was about to warm up a TV dinner when you knocked.

Clicking his tongue, he pulled his phone from his pocket. "I'll order a pizza. What kind you like?"

"No Chinese food?" I asked, finally taking a seat. "Didn't you tell me once that it was the only kind of food to eat for a mission?"

He shrugged and joined me in the adjacent chair, texting away on his phone. "Sometime you gotta break the mold. Besides, this isn't a mission. It's a homework session. Everyone knows you study with pizza, duh."

Rolling my eyes, I said, "Whatever you say. Want some water while we wait?"

It took him a moment to respond while he finished doing pizza-related stuff on his phone. "Nah, I'll get us some sodas. Now c'mon, what kind of pizza you like?"

"Whatever," I said, leaning back. "Ham, I guess."

"You mean Canadian bacon?"

"Yeah, whatever the fuck you call it. It's ham as far as I'm concerned."

Devon indicated to the phone with an exasperated motion. "It's cooked differently! You can get ham _or_ Canadian bacon. Do you want ham?"

Somehow we managed to craft a pizza we could both enjoy—pepperoni with _Canadian bacon_ and extra cheese—and we popped open our case files to begin the study session while we waited for the food and sodas to arrive.

"Brings back memories, don't it? You and me, sitting at a table, reading over a case file together." Devon shot a smile at me while he leaned back in his chair.

I snorted. "We do this all the time. With every case file."

"God, you're no fun."

"Have you _met_ me?"

"Fair enough. Where should we start?"

All of my stress from earlier dissipated as Devon and I fell into a more normal routine of theories and discovery.


	7. All that's Wrong

**Hello readers!**

**Sorry it took so long to get this out. I don't have an excuse. **

**Things are starting to heat up, so I hope this chapter was worth the wait. I'd like to say I'll be updating faster, but I don't know! I'm actually working on a new project (I might publish it here sometime in the next few days!) and I want to start making some heavy revisions to _Phantasm_ and my Transformers fic _Better Days._ However, Nightmare will be the priority so there's that.**

**A big thanks to Citrine as usual for all of her beta'ing glory, and thanks to my reviewers and new followers! You guys keep me going strong and I especially love reading all of your theories, whether they be accurate or not ;) Keep 'em coming!**

**I'll keep you updated if I manage to get any chapters in _Phantasm_ revised, and I'll see you guys in the next chapter!  
**

**Also, I made some new covers for _Phantasm_ and _Vespertine_! I'll be adding Nightmare's cover after I publish this. If you guys want an update on _Vespertine,_ well the only thing I can say is that it's at the bottom of my list but one day I will finish it haha.**

**~Crayola**

* * *

Chapter Six

All that's Wrong

_Prefer hot and humid conditions, possibly cold-blooded._

That couldn't be. Wolf had been so _warm_. How did they figure that? The first two documented cases had been in the middle of the rainforest and then again in Los Angeles during a record-breaking heat wave in the middle of summer, so I could see the correlation—maybe they were like reptiles and couldn't produce their own heat.

But what about in Antarctica? Late-fall Colorado?

The captured predator had been found in southern Africa, drawn by local armed conflict. I assumed it was warm there, too. That had been what drew the first documented predator attack as well: armed conflict. In Los Angeles there had been a violent gang war, so everyone had been shooting at everyone. They were drawn to places where there was fighting.

And worthy opponents.

Worthy _trophies_.

I had the file open on my lap, reading through choice bits of information as the bus trudged onward. To avoid prying eyes I sat in the back of the bus, hunched over the papers like a vulture guarding a kill. Though I hadn't seen anyone so much as glance in my general direction, one couldn't be too sure.

There were only four—now five—documented encounters with the predators, but it was under the assumption they had been visiting for longer.

Each recognized visit shared a common denominator: one survivor.

Delta Force, LAPD, environmental technician, high school soccer player, and finally FBI alien-hunting veteran Morgan.

One of these things was not like the other.

At least _now_ I was an alien-hunting veteran, but I wasn't sure how I managed back in the day.

I was unable to dwell further on my blind, dumb luck when the bus pulled to a stop. A quick glance outside told me it was my stop and I flipped the file shut, tucked it under my arm, and started walking the short distance to headquarters.

Devon was waiting by the first floor elevators. When he caught sight of me, he pushed the call button behind him and nodded his head in greeting. I acknowledged him with a wave.

"What are you waiting for?"

"You," he said with a grin. "You're my guide, buddy!"

With a heavy sigh I said, "You came in the other day to pick up the file. You should already know where to go."

The elevator doors opened and we stepped inside. Devon said, "Nah, that Joseph guy was waiting down here for me. Introduced himself, told me to read this fucking novel over the weekend and sent me away right after. Dunno why he didn't just email me instead of making me drive all the way out here for it."

"Just likes killing trees and the ozone layer, I guess." Both of us scanned our IDs to grant access to our division. My finger hovered over the button for Dixon's floor before I corrected myself and set course for Hassan's instead. I hoped I remembered it right.

"I'll say," Devon scoffed. "It was like reading the whole _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy all wrapped up in one big package. Except more boring."

I grunted in response. I didn't do any casual reading so I took his word for it.

"Think he'll give us a pop quiz or something? I don't think I'd pass."

Sometimes I didn't think Devon was real. He didn't seem perturbed by anything and was always happy as a clam. Meanwhile, I was trying not to crawl out of my skin or split apart at the seams as the elevator ascended, bringing me closer to Hassan and the promise of seeing our guest again.

"I doubt it, but maybe we should trivia-check with each other just in case," came my sarcastic remark.

"That's what I'm saying!" He flipped open his file and started to thumb through the leaflets.

The fact that he didn't hear my eyes roll surprised me.

Thankfully, the door to the elevator opened before he could start drilling me for his hypothetical pop quiz. He groaned in disappointment but I hurried off, letting him trail behind me. "You saw which floor I pushed?"

"Yup."

Good. I wouldn't have to explain. "Office is just like Dixon's. Our desks are over there somewhere, I'll show you later."

"Woah there cowgirl, why you in such a hurry?" His footsteps hastened so he could catch up to me. "Oh wait, scratch that: I already know the answer. But I mean, shit, can't I go get a cup of coffee before we barrel into this?"

I glanced over my shoulder to see if he was being serious, and the big dumb grin on his face told me _no_, so I pursed my lips. "Haven't you already had five cups this morning?"

He shrugged. "Well I mean yeah, but I want at least two more cups to help me prepare."

"Don't you know coffee stunts your growth?"

My body lurched when he pushed me and I shot him a glare. He said, "Well that explains why you're so short!"

Half of me wanted to slug him, but I settled for an indignant huff. We reached Hassan's office, but the doors were closed and the inside dark. Dixon seemed to live in the building, so find the office devoid of life was strange.

I turned to Devon and said, "I only have one cup a day, jackass."

"Then you must not have a high tolerance for it like me, shorty."

This time I did slug him, right in the deltoid. He leaned away and grabbed the arm with a hiss. "Ah, my old football injury!"

"Shut the hell up, you played baseball."

Someone cleared their throat next to us and I started, whirling around and raising my hands. When I realized it was Hassan, I dropped my arms. Heat rose to my cheeks and next to me, Devon turned and smiled.

"Joseph! Good to see you again."

Hassan offered that uncanny smile and nodded. "And you both as well. Glad you two seem to get along so well. That kind of camaraderie is always good to see. And how punctual you both are!"

He unlocked the doors to his office and flicked on the lights. He barely took as many as three steps into his office, then turned toward us and seemed to realize that we were still there. "Was there something you two needed?"

I made a face and opened my mouth to speak, but remembered that I had to stop acting like this was the single most important thing in my life. So, I clamped my mouth shut and shrugged instead.

Devon glanced between the two of us and opened his mouth to speak, but Hassan interjected.

"Oh yes, right. I made you a promise. Well, I have to check on the paperwork real quick, so why don't you two go gather the things from Dixon's department and get your desks set up here? You remember which ones are yours, right Nichole?"

"Yeah, I remember."

Nodding, Hassan stepped inside his office. "Good, good. I should be done by the time you make your way back up here. I'll take those files, thank you."

After handing over the stacks of paper, we left Hassan to disappear into the bowels of his office. Devon and I headed back to the elevators and I succeeded in not glancing over my shoulder. It was a good thing, too—I managed to avoid bumping into a man walking in the direction we had left.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he said, nodding.

"We're good," I muttered with an errant hand-wave.

I watched him make his way toward Hassan's office and as the doors slid closed in front of me, I realized he was wearing a much nicer suit than any agent I ever saw. Turning to Devon I said, "Who was that guy?"

He shrugged. "Didn't get a good look at him."

A curious hum vibrated in my chest, but I brushed thoughts of the man aside. Hassan was an important guy, I assumed. He had people to see and shit to do.

The elevator descended at a snail's pace. Devon glanced at me several times but never spoke. There were a few instance I thought for sure he was going to speak up, but every time he sucked in a breath, he held it for a few seconds before letting it out quietly.

Though I was aware he had something to say, I didn't press the matter and made a bee-line for our desks. There wasn't much there and I was glad the office was barren except for a few early-birds like Devon and me. I avoided conversation with them until I could gather my meager belongings—a sidearm I kept in my drawer because it seemed like a hassle to take home, a couple pictures of my family that I decorated my desk with so people didn't think I was weird, and some pens.

Devon didn't have much at his desk either; pencils and an armful of figurines, mostly. I didn't know what the little plastic figures were—I think he'd told me they were from some game he used to play. Unlike me, he took his handgun home with him so he already had it at his hip.

"Ready?" I asked him, quirking my eyebrow.

"Were you guys going to sneak away without saying good-bye?"

Dixon's sudden appearance made me start and I cast him an irritated look. He suffered it in silence and smirked. "A little jumpy there, Shain. Got a guilty conscience?"

I held my breath for an extra heartbeat before letting it out in a gust. "No."

"Mm-hmm."

"We weren't _sneaking_," Dixon said, oblivious to the stare-down Dixon and I were hosting. "Besides, we're just moving upstairs, not leaving forever. We can visit whenever."

"True!" Dixon barked, clapping Devon on the back with enough force to make him stumble and cough. "Make sure you do. That is, if you're not too busy running around consorting with extraterrestrials and the like."

My eyes narrowed and I nudged Devon. "Let's go. Hassan's probably waiting."

He glanced at me and nodded, rubbing the spot Dixon had slapped him. "Ah yeah, sure. See you around, Dixon."

"I'll hold you to it," he said, pointing at my partner. His other hand was shoved deep in his pants pocket. Before I turned away, he winked and stuck his other hand in his pocket. The simple gesture sent a shiver up my spine.

As the elevator closed us in, he had one more thing to say.

"Hope you're not too disappointed, Shain."

Another tremor shot its way up my back and I held my slim possessions tighter, willing my hands to stop trembling. What could he have meant by that? My jaw clenched and I fought the urge to open the doors and confront him.

When I didn't move to push the floor button, Devon leaned over and did it instead.

"Dixon must be torn up about us leaving, he's acting kinda funny," he observed, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes.

I huffed. "Just a little bit."

If only he knew _how_ funny.

In the time it took to speak with Dixon and ride the elevator back up, more people from the predator taskforce had arrived. There still weren't many, but they were all clustered around Hassan's closed office door, whispering. We approached, and I was glad to recognize one person in the group.

"What are you doing here, Morgan?" I asked her, shifting the bundle in my arms.

She glanced at me and her eyes widened a few centimeters. She was still leaning on her crutch. "Oh! Shain, hey. Um, well I was just coming in to see the shrink. You get all transferred and shit?"

I nodded. "Yeah I think so. Moving my stuff up here." I lifted my arms, full of goodies.

Devon raised his brow and looked between the two of us. "You guys know each other?"

Chagrin washed through me for two reasons—not only was I was being horribly rude, but I also hadn't yet told Devon I came in two days prior without him. Maybe I could get away with not telling him anything about it.

"Sorry. Devon, this is K.B. Morgan. She caught the predator. This is Devon Hart, my partner."

They exchanged handshakes and Devon said, "Damn, I'm gonna need to work hard to keep up with you two, aren't I? Here you are, hunting aliens and taking names and I haven't done anything."

"You have to work hard to keep up with anyone," I snorted.

"Ow, my feelings!"

Morgan chuckled. "Well, it's nice to meet you."

He jerked his head toward the door and the other three men ignoring us. "So what's going on here? Some sort of pow-wow?"

She shrugged with the shoulder not supporting herself on a crutch. "I dunno. We all want to talk to Joseph but he's in there with some guy we've never seen before. He looks pretty irritated with him, too. We're trying to listen in but they're both being real quiet."

I peered around the shades blocking the door window, but I could only make a few non-descript silhouettes. "How can you tell?" I asked, brow furrowed.

One of the men—a pasty, mouse of a guy—glanced at me. "I saw him go in there."

"Okay, so, why not just knock on the door?" Devon asked.

Everyone turned and gave him a look. "You don't interrupt Joseph when he's in a meeting with someone," McPasty said.

I heaved a sigh and left to find my desk. "Okay, sure."

Devon followed after me and I added under my breath, but loud enough for him to hear, "What a bunch of pansies."

He snickered, but made no response.

"These are our desks," I muttered, dumping everything in one of the drawers. I'd organize them later if I had the chance. However, I didn't think it would matter when I could possibly no longer be planet-side by the end of the day.

Whatever.

While Devon spent an ungodly amount of time placing his knick-knacks, I headed back to the gathering of people, though they had started to split off and give Hassan's door a wide berth to look less like they were attempting to eavesdrop. They might have been content with standing around and waiting, but I didn't have the time.

I had spent all of Sunday hashing out a plan, and some suit wasn't going to ruin it.

Before I could really shove my foot in my mouth, though, the door opened and everyone turned in unison. Hassan poked his head out and looked around, his gaze falling on me. I froze like a deer in headlights, ready to fight or flee. However, it was a fleeting glance and he opened the door wider to step onto the floor.

"Well, hello. I wasn't expecting so many of you here today. But, since you _are_ here, I suppose this will make it easier to tell you what's going on." He lifted his arm and stepped aside to allow the sharp-looking suit to make an appearance—the same man I had almost run into earlier. "This is Luis Barreras of Weyland Industries."

My heart skipped a beat, then plummeted to my stomach. Weyland.

"Here pretty soon that might change to Weyland-Yutani," the Barreras guy said.

Hassan's smile was terse and his nod curt. "Yes, well, Mr. Berreras has just taken jurisdiction over our guest and will be moving it to their facility in California. He'll want to talk to each of you—"

"What the _fuck_ do you mean he's moving him?" I shouted, unable to contain my outrage.

All eyes turned to me but I didn't waver or flinch. I continued my tirade, "Jurisdiction? _What_ jurisdiction_?_ He works for a fucking _technology _company! I can see him trying to fucking snag his gadgets but he doesn't have any say over who gets the _alien_!"

Another voice rose up with mine. "Yeah! We caught it! Our friends died catching that thing and Morgan was injured."

"How'd he even know it was here?" someone else called.

Berreras raised his hands and made a calming motion with them. "Now, now, please calm down. I'm not here to muscle in on your collar. Anyone who wishes to transfer an continue working with it is more than welcome to fill out the request form. Just ask Joseph and we'll get it emailed to you."

Murmurs broke out but I was too furious to discern what anyone was saying. A cold fire was blazing in Hassan's eyes and it was directed at me, but I met it with my own raging inferno.

"I will be sending a few of our own associates to speak with you all in turn to get your opinions and statements. We aren't going to steal your research notes, just get copies. We're not here to tell you to stop investigating any further interactions with this species, but—"

"Then what _are_ you here for? Last I heard you were coming for the xenomorphs in the near future, but what interest do you have with _this_ species?" I snapped.

Devon put a hand on my shoulder but I ignored him, glaring instead into the calm face of Luis Berreras. His smile was hidden behind embarrassment, but I was certain it was false humility. "I don't think I'm allowed to talk about those with our present company?"

Hassan shook his head. "It's fine, we all have a general idea about the xenomorphs since they were seen in relation to the predators, twice now."

"In that case, I'm sure you're well aware of the incident in Antarctica."

I leaned back and took a deep breath. "The expedition, yes. Your company was involved."

"Precisely. We lost Mr. Weyland himself in that incident. It was through a combined effort of both xenomorph and—the predators, was it?"

"Correct," Hassan nodded.

"Well, as we've established, both of the species were there. We'd like to learn more about them and use what they used against us to better humanity. I know we're not a big government agency, but we are quite wealthy and have an impressive team of lawyers who worked on this," he explained. "Anything else I'm afraid I can't tell you unless you meet the requirements for the transfer."

Devon leaned in toward me and whispered, "Well this is weird. Usually we're the people throwing around our jurisdiction. Never had it happen to us like this before."

It was an attempt at humor, but I didn't find it funny.

"Then what about the Xenos? You gonna come back in a month and run off with them, too?"

Berreras turned and laughed, shaking his head. "No, that would be a waste of time and resources. They will also be on their way to California in. . . ," he looked down at his wristwatch. "Well the next ten minute or so."

I choked on the air I was trying to breathe and reeled backwards as if struck.

The corner of Hassan's mouth twitched into what was almost a grimace and he said, "We've only been talking for a short time."

"Yes," Berraras sighed. I tried to recover enough to hear him. "I'm afraid Weyland Industries has run out of patience, and you really had no choice with the subpoena we had. We can be very efficient when needed."

Ten minutes.

In ten minutes I'd lose my chances to rescue the predator and kill the xenomorphs. Who knew how long filling out a transfer request would take.

Or if it would even be accepted.

My world narrowed in front of me and I turned on my heel to start toward the elevators. Each footstep was heavy, as if my blood had turned to frozen lead. Icy claws pricked at my body and from somewhere outside the bubble around me, I heard a voice.

"Where are you going, Nichole?" It sounded like Hassan.

"Outside." My voice was sharper than I'd meant.

A hand settled on my shoulder with some force, popping my bubble and causing my senses to crash back. "I know you may be disappointed, but you'll be able to trans—"

I had no more time for the façade. With my forehead pinched and teeth on edge, I rounded on Hassan and slapped his hand off my shoulder. He looked at his hand and then at me with wide eyes. "Get. The _fuck_. Off me," I hissed.

Everyone in the room fell into an awkward silence and I whipped around, storming toward the elevators. My eyes burned with frustrated tears, but I refused to let them fall.

In the back of my mind, I hoped my limp didn't diminish the impact of my exit.

Devon stopped the elevator from closing and wiggled part way inside. His look of concern was barely masked by his stupid smile and he moved to step into the elevator with me. "Hey sunshine, where you going?"

"Get. Out."

He hesitated, but when he took a good look at my face he raised his hands in submission. "Alright, okay. I'll come find you later."

The doors tried to close but jerked back open until Devon stepped out. I dropped my gaze, unable to look at the kicked-puppy expression he was wearing. That little bit of guilt ate away at my outer shell and I slumped. "I'll be outside. I just need a little bit."

If he was going to say anything, the elevator shut and cut him off. I took a deep breath and swiped my badge to go to the basement. If they thought I was going outside, then I had a few minutes to see how far along they were, if they had actually taken everything like that Berreras guy had said, and if there was something I could do. How many people did he bring? How prepared were they?

There were too many unknowns and too many variables.

Helplessness threatened to drown me and I punched the side of the elevator as it started to drift downward. Pain shot up my wrist but I ignored it—it didn't hurt enough to be broken. I rubbed the front of my knuckles with my other hand and glared at the wall, teeth grinding.

All that time—how many days did I waste staring at the xenomorphs when I could have been exterminating them?—and I'd done jack shit with it.

And now it was all ruined. I had failed to re-light the fire under my ass, content to let it simmer into a lukewarm coal. If I was allowed to transfer, would I be able to do anything at the new facility or would I have to find a way to stop them from leaving?

The doors slid apart and I marched down the halls. There was no guard at the lab door but my card wouldn't open it, so I jogged back down the hall to observation. I had a moment of panic when I couldn't get my badge to open that door, but after a few tries the green light appeared and I shoved the door open with a bang.

Observation was empty.

I almost ran head-first into the two-way mirror to peer inside.

Empty.

A string of curses flew from my mouth and I slammed my palms against the glass several times. He was gone—the table was clean, the sterile room was devoid of life. I didn't know where they had taken the predator or what floor he was on.

There had to be a way to find out.

I whirled around to exit and find someone, then found myself face-to-face with a smug Dixon. Both of his hands were in his pockets and I wanted nothing more than to smack the shit-eating grin off his face.

"They sure work fast, don't they?"

My eyes tracked his progress as he sauntered toward me. When he was too close for comfort I stepped back and narrowed my eyes at him. What he'd said earlier; _"Hope you're not disappointed."_

"You _told_ Weyland about him?" The accusation was venom spat from my mouth.

He nodded and rubbed his neck. "Well, I couldn't have you ruin all of the good standings I had in this agency."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Dixon rounded on me and threw his fist at the glass, rattling the window. All traces of his sneer was gone. "Don't be an idiot, Shain. You were transferred to Mr. Hassan's division under _my_ recommendation. If you did anything out of line, that would fall back on _me_."

Rage balled my hands into fists. It filled my head with static.

It had been _him_. Dixon had contacted Weyland and told them about the predator. Told them to come get him ASAP.

Because of _me. _I'd slipped up too many times.

"Let's not beat around the bush," he continued, his tone dark. "You were going to try to let that thing out, weren't you?"

There would be no denying it, yet my mouth worked up and down as if I wanted to.

He scoffed and shoved his hands back in his pocket. "Well its their problem now. And if I can help it, I'm going to make sure they don't let you near it."

A strangled cry left my lips and I charged him, catching him off-guard. Somehow I had the wherewithal to keep my sidearm holstered and instead let him kiss my fist. I heard something crunch and he crumpled to the ground, clutching his nose.

Whether I would regret it later or not, I kicked him while he was down. He let out a choked _oomph_ and fell to his side, where I kicked him again. Blood from his nose spattered the tile.

And again.

I stopped myself there, chest heaving, and stared down at my former director. His body rolled with every cough, his groans acute to my adrenaline-fueled hearing. I shook the ache from my wrist and rubbed my knuckles, then swallowed hard.

"I'm through with you assholes," I muttered, stepping over his fetal form. The sound of the door banging shut chased after me as I jogged back to the elevators.

The Xenomorphs. I had to check their level. If I could catch them while they were transferring the drones, I could figure out where they had taken the predator and bust him out. Would they be armed? Had they taken the queen, as well?

It was impossible for me to stand still as the elevator descended. I muttered the word "C'mon" a dozen or more times. Through some small miracle, there was no elevator music to accompany me.

Seconds later, a sound reached my ears. It penetrated the metal box I was in and the stone shaft around me. A piercing cry that grew louder and louder the further down I travelled until it packed my head with bees and made my heart quiver.

The Queen.

She was still there.

I slipped past the doors before they were open all the way and sprinted down the hall, my heartbeat in my ears. The screech and my breathing was all I heard as I made my way to the observation room. It would be the same on the predator floor—no access to the lab—but it didn't matter.

The plan was still on. I just had to get to observation. From there I would take care of them.

_Flash everything. Burn it all._

This time I didn't mess up unlocking the door. I took my time and made sure it worked on the first try, and my ID slid flawlessly across the pad. I pushed open the barrier and froze.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

A woman in a lab coat turned to look at me, her palm pressed flat against the smooth glass. A frown stretched her lips and she had sadness in her eyes. "Momma's mad they took her children."


	8. Flesh is Burning

**Hello readers!**

**I'm sorry for the long long wait, been busy with stuff. I started writing a HTTYD fic and I've been working with my beta reader/editor Citrine Nebulae to revamp _Phantasm, _so I hope to start posting the revised chapters pretty soon. I'm thinking groups of five, but idk. **

**Anyway, this chapter was a bit longer but I decided that at around 6-7k words it needed to be split up, so chapter eight should come much sooner than this one took. Sorry not sorry about yet another cliffhanger, but what can I say? ;D Anyway, thanks to Citrine for setting me straight on some of my more volatile mistakes. uwu **

**Shout out to my most loyal reviewers! Love hearing from you! And thanks of course to all of the new people following the story. :D I'd love to hear from you guys as well but it's enough knowing you liked it enough to follow and fav~**

**~Crayola**

* * *

Chapter Seven

Flesh is Burning

Did I hear this bitch right?

"Who the fuck are you?" I demanded again, marching toward her and grabbing her arm. We were the only two in the room. "And who the fuck is 'Momma'?"

Startled, she pulled her arm from my grip and stumbled backwards. Her hands trembled and she stared at me with wide eyes. "Momma—that's, that's what we call the queen. We—we jokingly referred to her as Moo Moo Momma one day and. . .and it stuck."

The queen slammed against her confines and screeched, no longer attached to her egg sack.

"You _named_ that thing? What the fuck for? You know what—never mind. What are you doing here? What's your name?"

"Mindy, I'm in charge of studying the queen." She stared at me a moment longer, her eyes flickering to watch the queen. When I didn't transgress her further, she placed her palms flush to the glass and leaned her head in to touch it against the smooth surface.

"Why isn't she sedated?" I thrust a finger in the queen's direction.

"She was." She continued to check on me from the corner of her eyes.

When it was clear the scientist wasn't going to elaborate, I pressed the matter through clenched teeth. "Then why is she _awake_ right now?"

"Sedatives don't last long on her," she sighed.

"Did they take all of the drones and warriors?" I asked, not bothering to close the distance she'd created. She hadn't pulled a weapon on me when I'd grabbed her, but that didn't mean she wasn't packing something that could hurt me.

She nodded, her forehead squeaking against the glass. "They gassed them and loaded them on a plane. They're going to take them far away, aren't they?"

It took an extra second for me to realize the queen had fallen silent. I looked away from Mindy and toward the cage. The giant beast was so unlike the monstrosity from the ship—she still had a sleek crest, but it was much larger and she was big compared to my memory. Her size coupled with the low ceiling—relative to the entire lab's—had her crouched over like a quadruped.

Momma, as the woman had called her, was rubbing her snout against the fogged glass and seemed to have her sightless face directed near my current companion.

We were so far away and behind glass. . .did she still somehow know we were there?

My eyes found and lingered on the command console by the window. I had to remember my goal, but I hadn't been prepared for this—the woman had thrown a wrench into my bravado.

Mindy stroked the glass with a heavy sigh and moved her head away. "Momma's going to need new babies. She has a few eggs left in there, and she wants me to let them out to find hosts. She misses her children so much."

Her words made double take and I glared at her with narrowed eyes. "What do you mean, she _wants you_ to let them _out_?"

At last she tore her gaze away to look at me. The faintest smile touched her lips.

"Can't you hear her?"

Coherent language failed me and I shook my head once, then trained my sights back on the robust form of the queen, now baring her teeth at us. "These things don't _talk,_ Mindy. What the fuck are you going on about?" A tremor went down my spine and I placed a hand on the holster at my hip.

She cocked her head to the side and took a half step away from the observation window. For several seconds she looked confused, then glanced down at her palms. Another brief moment passed and she started to giggle—a shrill sound that made the hair on the back of my neck stand. "Oh no—silly, no. She doesn't _speak_ like you and I. . .maybe you can't hear her because you don't work with her."

"You can't work _with _her!" I scoffed. "No one's allowed in there when they're awake."

Again she giggled and shook her head. "No, we're not, but we have to go in sometimes to harvest eggs or materials, and that's how we found the jelly."

"The _what_?"

"The jelly—like how queen honey bees are made. Royal Jelly."

I clicked my teeth together in frustration. "Yes, let me just dredge up all that trivia about honey bees so I remember what the hell you're talking about."

Mindy shook her head and clucked her tongue, patronizing me. "Never mind. I must help the queen, not explain her brilliance to the likes of you, who cannot even communicate with her. She wants more children."

With that, she turned toward me and started for the exit, but I grabbed her arm before she passed. "What do you think you're going to do?"

For a moment she stared at me, bewildered, and then bemused realization replaced her expression. "I was going to open the doors to the cage." She pulled her arm from my grasp and continued toward the exit.

Once more I reached out and snatched her arm. "Oh no you fucking aren't."

She struggled and the dream-like look in her eyes morphed into agitation. "Let me go! She needs me! She can't get out of the cage on her own and she needs her children. I know you don't understand, but please!"

Shaking my head, I held her arm tighter and dragged her away from the door. "She doesn't need jack shit from you. She just needs to _die. _Her and her demon spawn."

Her horrified gasp was followed by an increase in her struggles. "You're a monster!"

I whirled around to face her and pulled her close until we were mere inches apart from one another. "No," I hissed, pointing with my free hand at the screeching queen. "_That_ is a monster."

Momma bellowed as if she had heard my insult.

Eyes wide, Mindy started to shake and tried to pry my fingers off her. Tears formed in her eyes and I found myself irritated that she had taken the slight so personally.

Then, with a grunt, she lashed out and kicked my shin.

Pain shot up my leg and a sharp cry left me, causing me to let go of Mindy's arm. First she headed for the door, but I was able to grab her other arm on the backswing and yanked her backward, pulling her off-balance long enough so I could straighten and hobble around her, blocking the door.

"You're not getting in there, you stupid bitch!" I snarled. "Don't you see I'm trying to _help_ you? You're sick! That jelly or whatever is helping her _brainwash_ you."

Chest heaving and tears streaking her cheeks, Mindy shook her head. "You wouldn't understand. You weren't chosen like us. You'll understand soon—everyone will. Everyone should be _honored_ that Momma lets us be reborn as her children."

"Us?" I repeated, more to myself than to her.

Mindy cast furtive scans around the observation room, and then a light bulb lit up over her head. She backed further away from me before jogging to one of the computers where she began clicking at the keyboard.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I said, starting for her.

"I don't need to be inside to open the doors," she whispered gleefully.

The color drained from my face and my legs propelled me forward without another thought. I moved as swift as I could to stop Mindy, but it wasn't enough. Her fingers swept deftly over the keyboard and, before I reached her, a siren sounded inside the laboratory.

I collected her hands in mine, but the damage was done.

"What the _fuck_?" I hissed, my face inches from hers and my fingernails digging to the thin flesh of her wrists. "What is _wrong_ _with you_?"

She barked out a victorious but pained laugh and squirmed in my grip. Growling, I threw her hands down and hurried to the glass, pressing myself against it to watch what was happening. However, my horror abated when I realized it was only the dual set of doors that allowed the scientists inside—it was big enough for a couple humans to enter and maybe a drone, but the queen wouldn't fit. Red lights akin to police sirens rotated above the doors.

"Thank god," I breathed.

"No," she groaned, and I twisted around to look at her as she pushed her hands against her head. "You—you messed me up. I forgot she can't get out of there—She's not strong enough right now to break out."

Relief cooled my fire and huffed. "Good."

"At least the little ones can escape. . .it's a start," Mindy muttered, chewing on the nail of her index finger and walking away from the CCTVs and computers and in my direction.

My eyes narrowed and I turned toward the flash console. "Not if I can help it."

She froze, looking from me to the console. "What are you doing?"

Her answer was a single action—I pushed my palm against the switch and flames erupted in the laboratory, punctuated by a sharp alarm and more flashing lights. The queen's cry of pain was hear over the roar of fire.

"No!" Mindy screeched.

I underestimated how heavy and determined she was. Her body was suddenly thrown on top of me and I stumbled on my feet, unable to keep my hand on the controls. The queen continued to shriek, pain giving way to anger. Mindy's hands clawed at my face without drawing blood, and I was able to grab and throw her from my shoulders before she caused any damage. She crashed into the wall and grunted, dazed but not too hurt.

"You fucking crazy bitch!" I shouted, pointing an accusing finger toward her.

Mindy pulled her feet under her and stood on shaky legs. Her assault had her between me and my goal, and I could see into the lab behind her. The flames hadn't been going long enough to cause severe destruction, but the heat had begun to melt the tables and charred the walls and floor. The angry alien matriarch was at the human-sized doors, shoving her head through them.

Straightening, I made another move for the flash button but Mindy squared off in front of me. Fighting wasn't something she did well, I could see it at a glance—eyes wide and wet with tears, posture unsure—I was certain I could punch her once, anywhere, and she'd be down.

What where the chances she'd even been hit before?

"I don't want to hurt you but I fucking will," I warned, lifting my hands in an attempt to placate her. I continued to make furtive glances at the cage and the queen as she stuck her long head through the short tunnel, her crest straining against the small opening. The super-heated material started to bend outward.

Then she pulled back and disappeared into the cage. My mouth parted and I swore quietly—I'd been able to sear the lab long enough to weaken the queen's barred enclosure.

"She'll get out. The drugs will wear off and she'll get her strength back and then be free," Mindy said, pushing her back against the console and holding her hand out to stop me. "And then she'll easily break through the lab's door. The walls of the lab aren't strong enough to hold her and she'll be in the building soon after."

"Why do you _care_ so much?" I growled.

She held still for a few heartbeats, then her expression softened. "She talks to me, you know. Not like. . .in words, but if I fall asleep at my desk or close my eyes—she sends me visions. We were giving the honor to all the wrong people."

As she spoke, I advanced with slow steps so she wouldn't be any the wiser. "What honor?" I asked. Had to keep her talking.

Then I would overpower her and burn the bitch queen alive.

Maybe I wouldn't have to hurt Mindy too bad.

"The honor of giving birth to her children, of course. We were letting—letting criminals go in there and be part of the miracle when we should have been. . .doing it ourselves! They're such a fine species. So powerful and almost perfect. . . ."

Her voice trailed and her attention shifted. I lunged when I saw the opening, grabbing her shoulder and jerking her forward. She screamed and dug her heels in. "No! No!"

"Move!" I snarled.

A muffled crash from inside the lab caused both of us to freeze and turn toward the window. The queen had powered through the first opening and was shoving herself through the short tunnel, thrusting her head upward until the compromised Plexiglas shattered.

My heart skipped a beat.

"Momma's out!" Mindy's jubilant cry beat against my eardrums.

I snapped my head in her direction and bared my teeth. "Your time is up!" I followed the words with a sharp gut punch and she heaved, then fell to the ground in a fetal heap.

The queen mimicked Mindy's cry with a roar of her own and I stepped over Mindy's prone body while she gasped for air. "Enjoy freedom while it lasts, bitch," I muttered under my breath. Mindy coughed and grabbed my ankle, but it was a futile attempt—I slapped my hand down on the button. There was no delay. An alarm sounded and then the lab was engulfed with flames again.

Mindy choked out a sob and stumbled to her feet before tossing herself against my again. "No! Stop it! _Stop it you're hurting her_!"

This time I was ready for the attack and was able to brace against the impact. I used my free hand to keep her at bay while I listened to the sound of the queen's pained squawks and cries. I could see nothing inside except the angry orange flames burning everything. The thrashing queen was knocking things over inside trying to find a reprieve.

A sobbing and babbling Mindy pushed against my arm. She slapped and clawed at me but I ignored her the best I could until she managed a well-placed hit to my temple. Teeth grinding, I kept my weight on the control and aimed a quick and sloppy left-handed jab to her jaw.

If it had been my right hand I might have broken her jaw and a couple of my fingers, but with my left I was able to avoid both of those outcomes and instead she reeled, falling one more to the ground.

Her sobbing intensified and I harrumphed. "I warned you."

With her out of commission for at least a minute or two, I adjusted my full attention to the console and added my other hand on top of the button. "Just die already," I muttered to the queen.

Then, all at once, everything settled and fell quiet. I released the button and stepped up to the window as the flames spluttered out of life. "Momma?" Mindy blubbered, wobbling to her feet. She peered through the window, then shot out of the room. "_Momma_!"

For a while nothing moved, and then the black smoke furled. Something long disturbed the air, sliding on the ground.

The queen slammed face-first into the viewing window and I stumbled back with a sharp cry. Her carapace was steaming, dark-gray hide charred into night black. Parts of it were still smoldering. Her claws raked down the glass and the sound made my entire body shudder, but despite all of her posturing she was stumbling and couldn't hold her head up.

She thumped against the pane and it shuddered under her strength—albeit weakened.

I was about to smash my fist against the flash command again when I spotted Mindy rushing inside. Even the queen turned to watch her, stubbed tail lashing, and my body went rigid. I expected nothing less than a blood-bath.

Instead, Momma turned away and headbutted the window again, startling me. She hissed and rammed herself against the glass a few more times.

My jaw dropped.

Whatever weird mind control shit that jelly had, the queen was conscience of it and knew to leave her alone. Just what were these fucking aliens?

Mindy climbed over half-melted tables and blackened remains before slipping inside the cage. Momma turned again and staggered after her. With her giant head out of the way, I counted her missing limbs and saw just how shriveled her tail was.

One more blast and I was certain she would die. I would have to hold the button longer.

But with Mindy inside. . . .

A tightness constricted around my heart and my hand froze over the command. I searched for the scientist inside the cage, but it was difficult to see anything through the fire-damaged glass.

However, moments later, the queen backed out of the hole she had made and Mindy scurried out from underneath her, marching through the debris toward the window. I'd never been inside the lab proper, but I figured the glass I was watching through was also a one-way mirror.

It didn't seem to bother her. The lab was set lower than the window, but she stopped where I could see her and put her hands on her hips.

"I hope you're happy!" she shouted. "All of the eggs are dead! The only ones we have left are already dissected. She'll have to start over, make a new egg sack. . .it'll be days before she can start producing eggs again, and she has no warriors to protect her!"

Momma hovered above her, swaying on her feet. The edges of her crown were glowing a dim orange, as well as the tips of her shoulder spines.

Glancing around, I spotted a few light switches under the window and flicked them all on. Mindy's immediate switch to eye contact affirmed that she could see me. When she realized where my hand was, her expression dropped.

"You wouldn't! Not with me in here!"

My lips pursed and I considered her for a moment. Her wild expression turned smug and she chuckled. "I'm not leaving. I won't let you kill Momma."

Massive head swinging, Momma turned toward the wall that had the door Mindy entered through. Her chrome teeth shone as her lips pulled back. She took an uneven step, pausing to keep her balance, and I knew she would try to charge out.

I leaned forward and pushed the speaker's switch. "I don't negotiate with terrorists."

Her eyes widened and Mindy made a break for the door. I deliberated on whether or not to give her enough time to make it out, but when Momma surged onward along with her, head lowered to batter the wall down, I tossed the idea out and hit the switch.

The roar of the fire filled me. I heard nothing from Mindy, and the screeches of the queen seemed far away. Whatever momentum the queen had toward breaking out of the lab was interrupted and the walls shook as she rammed into them instead of exploding into debris. She made a few other attempts to escape, but couldn't find the strength to pull through.

Wails and squeals assaulted my ears and I kept my eyes on my hands. Momma abandoned her efforts and instead beat her large talons against the glass in front of me. My arms began to shake, but I held my positions until long after all noises stopped.

After several moments, the flash sputtered and died out, but still I held the button.

Voices started to pick up outside. I was made aware of them only when the door started to open and I relaxed my grip on the panel. Nothing had moved inside the lab for several minutes, but I kept one eye on it just in case.

Several more scientists burst into the room, demanding to know why the alarm was sounding. They stopped dead in their tracks when they saw me and we stared at each other for several seconds. I recognized one of them as the doctor that had sat in with Devon and I when we visited earlier in the week. Everyone else was new to me.

One of them lurched for the viewing window and let out a pained choking noise. "She burned it all! Everything that was in there is gone!"

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Why would she do that?"

"Did the queen escape?"

"Where's Mindy? Wasn't she coming here earlier?"

More joined the first at the window and the others followed suit. I edged around in the direction of the exit and lifted my hand to my head. "She—she went crazy. Mindy—she opened the door and the queen made it out. She was spouting nonsense about how big of an honor it would be to be a host for them and shit. She was fucking out of her mind so I flashed the lab!"

Anyone who was staring at me accepted my explanation at the moment, too shocked to question it, and crowded with the rest around the slightly warped window. One of them pointed out the destroyed entrance to the cage and an impact against the far wall.

No one could see Mindy among the charred remains of the lab, but the queen's massive body was there, glowing like a coal.

She didn't move.

With them occupied, I slipped from the room with satisfaction and headed toward the elevators, my hands trembling. I tried my best to keep my knees from shaking, but a few times I lost my balance.

I'd condemned that woman without much thought—with minor hesitation. I'd completely erased her existence in a few minutes, rendered her a literal smear on the floor. She'd been in my way and I'd smote her for it.

I put a hand to my head and fought through blurry vision as the realization of what I'd done encumbered me.

Dixon deserved the broken nose—did Mindy deserve to be cooked alive?

_These things are dangerous,_ a little voice told me. _She was going to unleash that thing on the entire facility. Who knows what would have happened. She didn't suffer, it was quick._

Yes. Yes, it was necessary. I had saved everyone. . .and no one was going to thank me for it.

Lightning struck the side of my head and I was thrown to the ground. I didn't have enough time or coordination after the blow to brace myself for landing and I hit the ground half on my chest and half on my shoulder, driving the air from my lungs.

The world around me swam and stars obscured my vision. The spot where I'd been struck felt wet and cold, and my pulse thrummed in my head, pulsating and aching.

When I rolled onto my back, a weight dropped on my stomach and further chased away my breath. A sloppy fist collided with my cheek—once, twice, thrice—before I could come to my senses and defend myself.

I hadn't been expecting an attack and cursed my complacency.

They removed themselves from on top of my and I rolled back over to my stomach, gasping and coughing. The motherfucker hitting me didn't know how to throw a punch to save their life, but it still hurt like hell.

Though I was still close to the lab, my pride wouldn't allow me to call for help. Without air in my lungs, I wouldn't have been able to even if I wanted.

Feet appeared by my shoulders—the person was standing over me. I tried to face them, but a hand gripped the back of my shirt and heaved me upward. My toes dragged across the ground and I was hauled down a different hallway, my hands clawing behind me to free my collar.

"You killed her." A man.

"She. . .ran in there. . .on her own. . . . I couldn't. . .stop her. . . ! I didn't. . .want to but. . .she forced. . .my hand." I swallowed cotton and tried to blink my vision back and forced the crackling ache in my cheek to the back of my mind. I fought to keep my voice even through the gasps.

"What?" he snapped. His face was red and eyes glassy. "I—I'm talking about Momma!"

My systems shut down while I tried to comprehend what he was talking about. Momma—the queen? He was talking about the queen? But that didn't make sense. Mindy was the dead one and—the jelly. She had said the word "us". How many other people were being driven insane by that abomination's vomit?

"You fuckers are ridiculous," I said, voice muddled and head spinning.

He ignored and dragged me, flailing and grunting, to another room where he dropped me on the floor outside the door. I managed to not smack my head on the hard tile.

"I'll teach you," he muttered to himself from inside.

I twisted around so I was on my front and pushed my weight onto my arms. I lifted myself up until I spotted him inside, rummaging with a container.

"We have only one choice. The honor should be going to Emma and I, but you have learn and this is the only way." He rotated his body and lifted a large, skeletal parasite in his hands. The thing was limp but its limbs were twitching every few seconds.

Ice filled my veins.

"I can wait my turn if it means teaching you what Momma was all about. Once you're carrying her heir, you'll see—you'll see how great she is. What an honor it is."

_Carrying_. _Facehugger._ My stomach churned.

Swearing, I staggered to my feet and drew my sidearm. "You keep that fucking thing away from me! I'll shoot you, I swear to god I'll do it." The words were heavy in my mouth as my sore cheekbone moved to form the words.

He cradled the parasite in his arms and twisted to protect it. "No you won't."

My chest heaved and I shook my head, raising the gun higher in both of my hands. "Don't think I won't! I'm gonna fuckin—"

A bug bite pricked my neck and I slapped my hand against the spot out of instinct, my fingers brushing against flesh. I whirled around, waving my weapon in an arch. Another woman was standing there with an empty syringe in her hand, eyes brimming with tears.

The whole time—he'd been staring _past_ me, not at me.

"What the _shit?"_ I spat, glancing at my palm and the speck of blood there. "What did you do?"

She extended her free hand and shook her head. "Oh no. No don't worry, it's not. . .going to kill you. It's just a minor paralytic, um, a small dose to relax you."

I debated shooting her for her insolence, but a strange tingling crackled down my spine and throughout my limbs. Every part of my body turned into gelatin and I staggered backwards, finding nothing but open hallway until my legs gave out and I crashed to the floor, my firearm skittering across the tile and stopping a few feet away, against a wall.

The woman (Emma?) approached with trembling steps. "I. . .I couldn't let her kill you and the royal heir. What are we going to do with her?" Her voice shook with nerves and she stepped aside so the man could walk through.

Somehow I managed to coordinate enough to prop myself against a wall. "You fuckwads. . .are gonna get it."

As soon as I could _move._


	9. Hanging On

**Hello readers!**

**Sorry for the delay on such a tense conclusion to our cliffhanger, but here it is! Hopefully it's everything you ever dreamed lmao. Thanks to Citrine for being such a trooper! You're a beautiful person! And thanks to all of you taking the time to review and follow. There's a few new faces so I hope I continue to please you and would love to hear from my new readers!**

**Thanks for being patient with me! Enjoy.**

**~ Crayola**

* * *

Chapter Eight

Hanging On

"You came just in time, Emma. Good thinking."

Emma didn't seem to think so. She was shaking like a leaf and silent tears streamed down her cheeks. "What are you going to do?" she asked again, worrying a button on her lab coat and staring at me. Her brows knit in anger before softening for a brief instance, as if she couldn't decide how to feel.

"I'm going to make her see how amazing this species is. When she's reborn as one of them, she'll never hurt another queen," he explained, walking from the exam room.

"But Melvin, the plan—"

"I know what the plan was!" he snapped at her. She jumped and took a few paces backwards. "I know—nothing's going to change. Don't worry. It was never going to be me, so I'm fine with waiting so we can teach this murderer a lesson."

She swallowed hard and when she diverted her attention to me, I met her gaze with a piercing glare, making her retreat further down the hall. "But she's not awake yet. It'll be a few minutes."

Melvin—god what a fitting name for such an _idiot_—stroked the strange-looking facehugger and it shuddered in his hand. "No, it'll be soon. She'll be so happy to have an immediate host, too. An agent will make a better warrior to protect the new queen, don't you think?"

He looked at his partner and motioned toward the end of the hallway. "What are the others doing? Will they come this way?"

She shook her head, then dropped the syringe like it had become hot and flinched from it, glancing from me to the needle like she was surprised at herself. "No—they're, uh. . .in the lab, trying to salvage what they can of the data. I don't think they saw me leave."

Her cohort breathed a sigh of relief and approached me with his bundle. "Good, good."

"Are you sure about this?" Emma asked, fidgeting. "I mean—what if she doesn't become a warrior? What if she. . .gets to be the new queen?"

"It won't happen." His voice was certain. "Why would they create a queen without a warrior to protect her first? Their species is better than that. If we have her reborn first, before you, she _will_ be reborn as a warrior to help protect the maturing queen—you."

Emma stilled her jitters and nodded once. "Yes. You're right. . .you're absolutely right. It wouldn't make any sense."

Groaning, I enunciated each word with excruciating effort. "What. Are. You. Talking. About."

Turning to me, his lips thinned into a terse grin and he crouched down to give me a closer look at the strange parasite. "This one is special. Can you see?"

I battled against my own body to recoil, but it was as if the circulation to my extremities had been cut off: my limbs were laden with lead and rendered immobile. My vision blurred and I shut my eyes to take a deep breath. At least I could still think straight.

When I opened my eyes I could see that what he held a mere few feet away wasn't anything like the facehuggers I knew from the nest years ago. It was a dark gold-black color instead of off-white, streamlined and much larger. He cradled it like a newborn, using both arms to support its spindly form and presented it like a prized trophy.

"Wh—" My dry throat prevented speech.

"We were doing experiments with the queen's secretions. When we exposed this one's egg to it, it hatched like this. Isn't she beautiful?" Emma explained, awe breaking through her anxiety for a brief moment. "Just like a beehive—the queen's jelly can change the parasitoids, give them the royal bloodline to create new queens and new hives."

Her colleague nodded. "We couldn't dissect it like the rest. We wanted to learn more about it so we kept it sedated in order to take x-rays. It carries two embryos, you see? It can implant twice! The honor was going to go to Mindy and Emma, but. . .now Mindy's dead."

Both lowered their heads and took deep, synchronized breaths.

As if aware it was the subject of the conversation, the facehugger squeaked and drew my attention. One of its slightly-curved legs twitched—the first sign of movement since Melvin had picked it up. My heart stalled.

"Now," Emma sighed, "That means we have a free embryo. . .for you."

Melvin stood, cradling the royal piece of shit, and placed a hand on Emma's shoulder. "It's for the greater good. Like I said, you'll still receive your reward. I was always going to receive mine later, anyway. You might need a human's help."

She chewed on her lip and titled her head to the side before reaching out to caress the top of the facehugger with her fingertips. "You're always right."

I tried to sit up further against the wall but ended up wriggling without effect. My head lolled with the effort, making me exert more energy to roll it back into place. I couldn't take my eyes off that thing, not for an instance.

Emma, in the meantime, let her hand drop and thanked Melvin for being so _kind_—fuck me—and I rolled my eyes. "Are. . .all of you geeks. . .this delusional?"

They blinked at me and then Emma shook her head. "Delusional? No. However, the three of us were the only ones chosen by the queen as her subjects. No one else has heard her or received her visions. Mindy was the first."

Both fell silent and watched the royal facehugger. My sidearm was scant inches out of arm's reach. If I could recover my fine motor skills, I could fall to my side and grab it. . . . It seemed like an impossible task. Even finding the upper body strength to tilt over was daunting. Adrenaline fought against the drug and kept me from turning into a puddle—it was fighting a losing battle though.

Somehow, my fingers twitched.

It was the most I could hope for.

"Shouldn't she be okay now? The drugs always wear off so fast on them once they're no longer exposed to the sedative. It shouldn't be taking this long! Someone might come along and see," Emma hissed, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

Melvin changed the parasite's position so it was resting on one arm and extended the other toward Emma. "Calm down. She's waking up in her own time."

"It's not fast enough!"

Groaning, Melvin turned away from Emma and back to his _precious bundle_ and stroked it with the compassion of a lover. My gag reflex triggered. "A watched pot never boils," he recited.

Whatever drug the bitch had given me, the adrenaline coursing through my veins was trying its damnedest to counteract it. Through sheer force of will and desperation, I was able to force myself to slump over into a prone position, closer to my weapon. A sheen of sweat beaded my brow and I was out of breath, but it was still progress.

The mobility needed to pick the firearm up, however, was not there.

Melvin moved until he was in front of me again and clicked his tongue. "No, don't go anywhere. She's finally starting to come around."

I couldn't see Emma through Melvin's fat head, but her voice was clear enough. "Is it time?"

"Yes, I think so."

As he said it, the royal facehugger squirmed in his grasp with new vigor. The tail was still hanging limp behind it, slipping over Melvin's arm. He held it out to me and I struggled to control my arms and legs, to stand or _crawl_. If I could crawl away, I could—I could—

_What _could_ I do?_

Words failed me as my throat clamped shut, not allowing so much as a breath. I wormed my way sideways, spurred by the new burst of energy brought about by fresh adrenaline pumping through my veins. Melvin placed the floppy parasite on the ground, feet away.

My mouth gaped soundlessly save for a single strangled, incoherent plea in the form of a garbled half-wail. He urged it forward and it struggled to stand on its segmented limbs.

Before my eyes was the sudden image of Jess doubled over, clutching her chest and crying. Rapid breaths failed to fill my lungs with oxygen as my mind was forced into remembering the look on her face when the abomination burst through her ribcage to take its first gulp of air.

That was going to be me.

Angry, frustrated, and scared tears threatened to spill past my eyelids. The royal facehugger stood with increased confidence and skittered from side to side as it found its balance.

"Go on," Melvin urged, backing up until I was the closest thing to it.

So it wouldn't have any other choice but to attach to _my_ face.

A shout echoed from down the hall, but it was pittance compared to the vile creature staggering toward me and the sound of my pulse in my ears. It was all I could do to inch my way, using self-discipline and what little strength I had in my hips, in the opposite direction.

It was gaining mobility faster than I. Its grotesque finger-legs tapped at the tile and carried it toward me in stilted strides. Some fleshy appendage from its underbelly pulsated.

Ice lined my veins and my throat tightened.

Thunder cracked, cutting off Melvin's admonishment sending him sprawling across my periphery. Emma's scream was muted compared to the explosive sound of the facehugger's steps. I was plagued by the urge to look up, but I didn't dare tear my eyes off the advancing parasite. Its disjointed limbs ticked and jerked with each movement, but its objective was clear.

When I managed to form words, it was a cry for help.

Three loud and jarring pops lit my nerves on fire. The royal facehugger jerked and squealed as holes ripped through its soft and wet body. The only sound that penetrated the ringing in my ears was the sound of Emma's horrified shriek doubling in volume.

Through some stroke of luck, I was spared any drops of acid. More shots tore into the thing's still-spasming body and I flinched each time. Even when it ceased all movement, I still felt as if I wasn't safe. I couldn't put any more distance between the two of us. The drug's grip was slackening by margins, but fear petrified me.

Shoes interrupted my field of vision, obscuring the dead facehugger. I shuddered and panic caused my heart to skip a beat when I couldn't see it anymore. One foot nudged it further away.

A familiar voice sliced through the terror. "I've got you," it said, punctuated by an arm slipping around my shoulders. Devon swept into view and I released a trembling gush of air, eyes closing, as every one of my muscle curled toward him.

"Devon," I mouthed; my voice eluded me still. My heart thudded against my chest, in my ears and his arms tightened around me. Deep breaths chased away the sobs looming inside.

Through the faded ringing in my ears, I deciphered his speech. "Are you alright? Nichole what did they do to you? Are you hurt?" A darkness touched his face. His expression was hard and concerned, so intense I couldn't meet his gaze.

Somehow I managed something similar to a head shake and I looked around. After a few seconds of trying to lift my hand, I pointed toward Emma, who was bent over the dead facehugger and blubbering, struggling to decide if she should pick up its body even as it sunk a few inches into the floor, acid blood devouring the tile.

Next to her was the unmoving body of Melvin, blood pooling under his chest.

Behind her was the forgotten syringe she had dropped. My mouth bobbed in an attempt to work a few times before I found the voice that had fled. "Paralyzed."

He followed my gaze and nodded. "Can you walk? I'll get you upstairs."

"I don't. . .know."

Before he could prop me up, Emma spoke—her voice was wet and heavy. "What have you done? What have you done!"

She stood on shaky legs, her face red and slick with tears. Devon tensed against me when Emma advanced toward us. "You _killed_ her. Now we—we lost everything! I was—I was so _happy_ when they decided not to take our eggs today, we had more time with them. . .but now—now they're all _dead_ and you killed Momma and our last hope for another queen!"

Devon set me against the nearest wall and slowly rose to his feet.

Her tirade gained momentum and showed no sign of relenting. "What gives you the right to deny this species existence? The fact that they're scarier than you? We were trying to _create_ life and you destroyed it! You and that—that _whore_!"

No sooner were the words out of her mouth before Devon slapped her across the face. Emma reeled and stumbled backwards, her hand covering the spot where Devon had struck. She gaped at him, affronted, and backed away with fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. They stared off for a few seconds until Devon turned away.

"You hit her," I breathed. It wasn't an accusation.

He ticked his head to the side and put his arm around me again. "Talk shit, get hit. She was hysterical, y'know?"

It was so absurd. He sounded flippant, but his scowl said otherwise.

With Devon's help, I found my footing and was able to divide my weight between my own strength and Devon's support. My steps were faltering and inclined more toward meek shuffling, but it was a notch above my worm imitation.

"Here, don't lose this," he said, sticking my sidearm into its holster.

"Thanks," I murmured. My head buzzed with static and I cringed against him as we passed the dead parasitic alien stirring in its own acidic blood. I half expected it to spring back to life and finish what it started, however ridiculous the sentiment might have been.

I needed Devon's help striding over Melvin, and we skirted around Emma who collapsed once more by the facehugger's side. At the end of the hall, the scientists had started to gather.

"What happened?" one of them asked. "We heard gunfire."

Devon shifted his weight to pull me up straighter. "You have _got _to keep better track of your scientists, they just tried to stick one of your parasites in my partner." His voice was sharp and sent a tremor down my spine.

"Are you serious?" someone else gasped.

Another growled. "What happened to Melvin? What is he doing on the floor? Is Emma okay?"

Neither of us bothered to look back and Devon harrumphed. "That idiot dove in front of me when I tried to shoot the damn thing. Maybe he's alive, maybe not, I don't really give a fuck. Out of my way, eggheads."

We shoved past them and they scurried down the hall to where Emma was still sobbing.

"Don't touch that!" one of them chided.

Emma sobbed something in returned, but she was too incoherent to understand.

"How did you. . .find me?" I asked once we were around the corner, finding it easier to speak by a margin. My gait had yet to stabilize; I hadn't felt so useless since my legs were broken.

He didn't look at me and his smile didn't touch his eyes. "I figured you'd either go to the floor with the predator or this one. I checked the predator's lab first and only found Dixon nursing a broken nose and ego, so I came here next."

I choked out something like a laugh. "He's just. . .sitting down there?" I had to pause for a respite. "Sulking?"

Devon nodded. "Did you hit him?"

"A little."

"I figured as much." This time his smirk was closer to bringing light to his face, but didn't quite pull it off. "But anyway, when I saw all those people in the lab—I assume all the blackened shit was also your doing?"

My teeth clenched and I dipped my head.

"Jesus, alright. Well, I saw those guys in the lab and I asked if they'd seen you. They said you'd already left. I didn't see you when I got off the elevator or walked down the hall, so I came looking."

"Why?"

We stopped at the elevator and he gave me a strange look. "You're my partner. I was worried about you. You seemed so. . .upset about the whole thing." Devon reached out and hit the call button.

Heat flooded my cheeks and I averted my eyes to the elevator doors. "Oh. Well thanks."

When the doors opened, I hesitated to enter. Devon realized he was trying to drag me and said, "What's wrong?"

"The predator."

"What about it?"

The adrenaline was ebbing and I was hit with sudden exhaustion. My knees buckled from under me and Devon had to adjust his grip to support my burden. Where Melvin had hit me in the back of the head was starting to throb and radiate through my skull. "We have to stop them from taking him. Where—we have to go to loading."

Devon shook his head and hauled me into the elevator despite my deadweight. "They're long gone by now, headed out to the private airport. We gotta get you to the nurse's office right away."

_Nurse's office_. I rolled my eyes—what a dork. "I'm okay."

"You can barely walk." Before I could argue further, he commanded the elevator upward.

I chewed on the inside of my lip, aware of how close I was to Devon; the pressure of his arm around my waist and his fingers against my wrist. My hands balled into a fist and he glanced at me.

"We'll figure out where they're going and what we can do," he assured me.

Swallowing, I pressed my lips together before speaking. "We know where they're going. It's the 'what we can do' part that has me worried."

"Well, what do you _want_ to do?"

The elevator reached its floor and we exited. I didn't know whether I should tell him or not—how I wanted to free the predator and eradicate the xenos. Part of me wondered if he hadn't already figured it out. I clenched and unclenched my jaw, then sighed. "It doesn't matter what I want if I don't know how I'm going to do it."

He seemed close to saying something, then thought better of it. After a second of reconstructing this thoughts, he said, "Nichole. . .I'm here for you, y'know? We're partners."

"You just saved my life," I sighed. "What makes you think I don't know that already?"

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing more as he led me through the hall.

I hadn't needed to visit the resident doctor since my annual physical months prior. It wasn't a very extensive operation—basic first aid supplies and beds for people feeling ill or needing a nap. Most damage done to a person was out in the field, and anything more than a few cuts or bruises was directed to an actual hospital where the official physician would visit to treat them directly.

Doctor Lee manned the infirmary, treating paper cuts, while Doctor Kendrick worked at the clinic proper, on both the hospital's and the agency's payrolls.

"Why'd you kill the queen?" Devon asked out of the blue, careful and nonchalant.

There were two answers—the real one and the less-real-but-still-kind-of-true answer. When I took too long to decide which version to give him, he pressed the matter. "Nichole?"

"Sorry," I muttered. He would have to be satisfied by the half-truth for now. The less Devon knew about my sordid plot, the better it would be for him in the long run. "That lady that was in there, she was going to let the queen out and get everyone impregnated so she'd have more 'children'. I did what I had to do."

He tightened his grip around my waist, electrifying my skin. "What was wrong with them? Did they go totally bonkers locked up in that lab all day and night or something?"

It took a moment for me to clear my mind. "No—no it was. . .well I guess something _like _that but. . . . Mindy, the one I had to—um. . .the one with the queen, she was mentioning some sort of jelly the queen like, secretes or something. They'd been experimenting with it and studying it."

"And?"

Forcing my heavy limbs to move was taking its toll on my stamina. My feet dragged and Devon was all but carrying me toward the infirmary. He paused to let me catch my breath. "And—and I don't know. They said. . .well _she_ said that she was getting, visions or. . .dreams or something. That the queen was _talking_ to her."

"Hallucinations? Or. . . ?"

"I don't know."

We continued onward and Devon was deep in thought alongside me. Something occurred to me and I shook my head. "I don't know they. . .they work on a hive mind, right? Like ants and bees? Maybe the—whatever the queen makes gave them glimpses of it?"

"How would it do that?"

"I—how would I know? I'm not a scientist. I shoot things first and ask questions later."

He chuckled. "I can tell." His posture relaxed compared to before and it was good to have him back to normal, or at least almost back to normal: the tendon in his neck was still tense.

At last we reached the infirmary—I inwardly scoffed again at the thought of Devon calling it the "Nurse's Office"—and he hauled my ass inside. Doctor Lee was standing at the treatment table with his back turned to us and a disgruntled Dixon sitting before him.

Dixon peered around him when we stumbled in and pointed at us, his hand covered in nasal blood. "There she is! She did this to me!"

Doctor Lee turned, preparing for a lecture, but his irritation was replaced with concern when he saw my condition. He hurried over and slipped next to me, helping Devon support my weight. "Get off the bed, Chris."

"What? She broke my nose!"

He stopped and shooed Dixon away with a hand. "And we will deal with it later, but right now I need her on this bed. There's nothing I can do for your broken nose, I can't realign it here. Allison will have to treat you at the hospital."

When he didn't immediately move, Doctor Lee reached out to force him. However, Dixon stood up beforehand, his arms up defensively. "Don't touch me, I'm moving."

I couldn't help but smirk at him as Devon and Doctor Lee helped lay me on the bed. He motioned behind him at the sickbeds without looking. "Sit there and wait for me if you must. Give me a few minutes to look her over."

Eyes narrowed, Dixon looked between us and shook his head, sitting on one of the others pallets as he was told. He was holding a bloody rag up to his nose and his eyes were puffy and bruised.

Fucker deserved it.

"What happened to her?" the doc demanded.

Together, Devon and I recounted the last fifteen minutes, leaving out the part about me burning the entire lab down, including a scientist. No one asked why I hit Dixon, but I knew it was coming at some point. Until then, I was glad for the chance to come up with a reason. For the most part, though, I figured the truth was the only thing I could offer that made any sense.

Or at least part of it.

A few minutes were spent checking my reflexes and heart rate before the doctor could come to any conclusions. It included poking me with a needle—pain, I assumed, was a good sign.

"Well," Doctor Lee said, his hands on his hips, "I'm afraid there's not much I can do about it. She wasn't given a very high dosage so it should wear off within the hour. You already have some response to the tests, which is a good sign. Until then, you'll just have to take it easy. Drink water, help flush it out of your system faster. I'd put you on an IV, but I don't have the equipment."

"I don't have time for any of that," I muttered.

His forehead creased and he glowered at me. "Well you'll have to make time, since. . .well you can't move. You'll have to stay here anyway while we file the incident report. You did a pretty good job on Chris' nose over there. . .probably be written up for it."

"Which is less than she deserves."

"Shut the fuck up, asshat," I groaned, bobbing my head. "I don't want to hear anything from your back-stabbing ass."

The rest of his face turned beat-red. "Look at the pot calling the kettle black!"

My hackles raised but he had such a volatile point that I couldn't find a proper comeback. Instead I gaped at him with rising anger.

"I should press charges!" he continued.

That, however, earned a hardy laugh. "Fucking do it, it won't make a bit of difference."

"Enough," Doctor Lee commanded, putting his hands up. "I'll not have you two squabbling like two children in my infirmary! Now, I'm going to make a call to Allison about Chris, then have someone come deal with your incident. Do _not_ speak to each other while I'm gone."

With that, he left for his office and slammed the door shut. Devon watched it for a second, then looked at Dixon. "I'd ask, but I'm pretty sure you deserved what you got." He never was good at following directions.

"Watch it, Hart. You better pick the right side on this."

Devon snickered and walked from my line of sight. I shot Dixon one more sour look before resting my head against the shitty hospital-grade pillow and closing my eyes. At least the drug made it easy for me to relax.

When Devon returned to my side, he had a paper cup in his hand. "Here. The doc said you need to drink water." He helped me sit up, but I shook my head when he tried to water me like a plant.

"Nichole you can barely lift your arm," he reprimanded. "Besides, it's only me and Dixon here. And no one cares what Dixon thinks."

The man in question growled quietly in his corner.

"I can do it," I insisted. Taking a deep breath, I concentrated on convincing my arm to raise high enough so I could drink the god damn water Devon had brought me, but it wouldn't budge. In the end, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't lift my arm higher than a couple inches.

Glowering at the wall, I huffed. "I don't want any water."

"_Nichole_."

My brief bout of petulance faded at his chiding look and I relented. "Fine, whatever."

I spent the entire time drinking from that stupid damn cup waiting for some snide comment from Devon, the incarnation of the peanut gallery. I expected it, and I didn't look forward to it. It never came, though; he was cordial through the whole situation and set the cup aside before lowering me back to the bed.

"Thanks," I grumbled, trying to ignore my flushed face.

"Don't mention it," he chirped, pulling a chair up to my bed to sit. He grinned that stupid grin of his, and this time it affected his whole face.

It was all I could do to keep myself from smiling back.

Instead, I cleared my throat and grunted. "Believe me, I won't."


	10. Integrity

**Hello readers!**

**I'm really really really really sorry this took so long. I still hope it's not rushed, I feel like it might be rushed in some parts, but I don't know. I just know I'm sorry! LIKE SO SORRY.**

**However, maybe this double announcement will make you feel better: I'm going to posting the first four chapters of Phantasm's rewrite! That's right, they're going up right after I post this chapter, so in about an hour you'll be able to re-read Phantasm up to chapter four. I would have posted chapter five, but my husband is giving me sad puppy dog eyes and I still have to do a lot of editing and adding the finishing touches to it. **

**Also, I'm going to be trying this new thing: replying to reviews! I've realized I've really been neglecting everyone by not replying, and I feel terrible. So, from now on, if you review, you can look forward to a personal reply from me! I realized, after reviewing several other fics and receiving replies, that I'm a terrible person. So, this month is just the month of Crayola being a bad person. I'll make that up to you all, I promise! You can all look forward to more updates on Phantasm, as well! **

**That's right, I'm going to try to have it completely revised and rewritten by the end of the month! Think of it as a 1st anniversary celebration or something I guess. Let me know what you think of the changes, and if you want to be notified when I post a revised chapter (I'm going to try to do them in groups), drop me a PM or a review and I'll send you a little note. :)**

**Thanks for being awesome people.**

**~ Crayola**

* * *

Chapter Nine

Integrity

The weight of what I'd been through was a heavy pressure on my mind. Neither Devon nor _Chris_ were speaking, and I was in no mood to fill the silence. I stared unseeing at the ceiling, vision spotty from the florescent lighting.

In my head, the royal facehugger squealed. It skittered toward me, slick and slimy appendage extended and primed. . . .

I clenched my eyes shut to force the vision out of my head. When a panic attack loomed over me, I worked through my breathing exercises. It had been years since I'd learned them, yet they were still coming in handy. My chest settled with thick, hot coals and my eyes stung with tears desperate to be free.

Not here.

Not now.

_Don't let them know you're weak._

A headache pounded against my skull thanks to my efforts. My throat burned like I'd swallowed a sheet of sandpaper.

Unable to do much else, I chewed on my bottom lip. The pain gave me something else to think about besides the instant replays running wild. All my muscles flexed and relaxed as I tried to force mobility to return to my limbs. I needed to leave. I needed to plan. I needed to get away from the office and out into the field.

Moments ago I had managed to move my right arm across my face. It was a last-ditch attempt to keep my anguished expression hidden. It also meant the drug was wearing off.

But I wanted it to wear off _faster_.

"You alright, Nichole?"

Despite how soft he spoke, Devon's words sent a surprised tremor down my spine. I didn't move my arm and took an extra second before responding—I had to make sure my voice wouldn't crack when I spoke.

"Fine," I quipped, tone sharper than I'd meant.

"Need some more water?" he pressed. How did he always seem to know when something was upsetting me?

When I answered, it was through gritted teeth. "_No._"

He shifted in his chair and said nothing more. My anxiety manifested as anger, and Devon was an easy target for venting. A safe target. Devon would endure the flack and not think less of me.

It was more than I deserved.

For several more minutes I suffered in silence. When the doctor returned with Hassan, I dropped my arm a few inches to try to gauge his expression. Nothing. His face was impassive, as if two separate cases of assault was a common occurrence within the bureau.

"Chris?" Doctor Lee said. When he had his attention, he continued. "Allison will be waiting for you to arrive. First, you'll have to speak with Hassan so we can file this report. I'll leave you to it."

Before he left, he faced me. "I will check on you shortly to see how you are progressing."

Nodding, I watched him leave and dreaded this confrontation. At least Devon was with me.

Devon would have my back.

"Good morning, everyone," he greeted us. "I heard there was an incident. Or, rather, two incidences. . .involving you, Ms. Shain?"

His hawk-like gaze cut through me sharper than any blade.

Not even two hours into the first day of my new department and I'd assailed my former boss. On the same day, I'd killed a woman and burned down an entire lab.

Good thing it was going to be my _last_ day.

"I suppose so," I said, guarded and weary.

"We will start with what happened to have you bedridden, then deal with the incident involving Dixon. Please, tell me everything."

Hassan listened while sitting on one of the beds. He had his hand cupped over his mouth and his eyes never left me while I spun the tangled web of half-truths.. Dixon remained quiet the entire time, though I'd expected commentary. I assumed it was because he was waiting his turn. Maybe even writing an Oscar-worthy speech while he sat there.

Our director's attention diverted to Devon, who straightened next to me. "And what of you, Mr. Hart? Why were you down on that level?"

"Uh, right. See, I noticed how upset Nichole was, so after giving her what I thought was enough time to cool down, I went looking for her. I found Dixon first, sitting in the predator's observation room, all. . .bloody and stuff."

Dixon scoffed. "Didn't even offer to help me."

Devon shrugged and ignored him. "Dixon looked like he was okay enough to move, so I left him to do his thing and went searching for Nichole again. I decided to check the xenomorph lab. It was pretty bad shape, and the lab techs there said she'd left already. . .but I hadn't seen her, so I had to look around to make sure."

When he paused, I glanced over at him. The muscle in his jaw was taut again, brow set and tense. "I heard voices down one of the halls so I went to check it out."

"Please," Hassan said, voice quiet, when Devon paused yet again. "What happened next."

My partner rubbed his face and nodded. "Yeah, I saw Nichole on the floor with two of the lab techs standing over her. Um, the woman and the man—Frank and Emily or whatever their names were."

"Melvin and Emma."

"Yeah, whatever. They were standing there, and they had one of those implanter things on the floor with her. I shouted at them and when I tried to shoot the. . .um. . .the parasite thing, Melvin just jumped right in front of me, like he was _protecting _the damn thing. Emma was the only smart one—she hung back and I was able to kill the thing before it could attach to Nichole."

Devon's voice took an edge the further into the story he delved. Knowing how weak I must have looked to him corroded my insides. Remembering how close I'd been, how the facehugger only needed a few more steps, threatened to pull me under and drown me.

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek and closed my fists so tight my nails bit into my palms. The pain was a focus I clung to. Eyes tight, I struggled to tread water and stay afloat. It was never going to end. I was never going to free of those demonic abominations. I should have left with Wolf when I'd had the chance.

"Well," Hassan said, pausing as if trying to pick the right words. "I'm very sorry that happened to you. It's not my division down there, but I will look into it myself. As for this. . .situation with Dixon, what happened?"

He cut me off with a sharp gesture before I could open my mouth. "I would like to hear the victim's side of the story, first. Dixon, can you tell me what transpired?"

_Victim_. I snorted and rolled my eyes.

If it was at all possible, Dixon's face had never looked so punchable.

With the smuggest look ever conceived by man, Dixon described the moments before I'd broken his stupid, ugly mug. "Of course, sir. I had heard that Weyland had appropriated the prisoner—"

"Subject," Hassan corrected.

Both of them were lucky I was confined to my bed, or else I might have done something stupid. Like beat both of them to a pulp. Did they even know what they were talking about? Prisoner, subject. The words twisted a knife in my stomach and left a bad taste in my mouth.

That predator was more of a man than they'd _ever_ be.

"Yes, sorry. Anyway, I heard what they'd done and went down to supervise the process. Ms. Shain arrived moments after they had left. She was agitated and irrational, and when I'd attempted to calm her down and send her away, she punched me and stormed off."

That son of a _whore_—how long had he been rehearsing that in his head? Sure, I figured he'd try to pull something like that, but it still infuriated me.

And I thought I was the one cooking up a pot of bullshit.

"He's lying!" I spat. Devon helped me sit up when I struggled to do so on my own.

"Oh?" Hassan said, quirking a single eyebrow and sitting up straighter.

Dixon glared at me from his seat. His nose had stopped bleeding minutes ago and was at an odd angle, diminishing the effect. I met his gaze without flinching and nodded. "He didn't hear about them taking the predator, he called them and told them to come pick him up! That's why I hit him, because he's a fucking _narc_!"

Frowning, Hassan turned to Dixon. "Is that so?"

Red-faced and tight-fisted, Dixon looked between me and the others. "Well—you see, the thing is. . . ." He floundered and Hassan's looked less and less amused. Then, something broke inside Dixon and he pointed an accusing finger at me. "Yes! Yes I did! Because I had reason to believe that _she_ was a sympathizer for that—that thing!"

Had I been able to move, I might have leaped across the space separating me from Dixon and broke more of his bones.

Thing. Subject. Prisoner. It.

I hated everyone involved with his capture. Murder pumped like poison through my veins.

_Should have left earlier. _

Once more Hassan's direction his attention to me. I kept glaring daggers at Dixon even as Hassan spoke about me. "We all know her past with the visitors, it was the main reason we hired her, was it not? How are you certain her enthusiasm equated to possible treason?"

He was silent, lips pursed together. My hardened expression metamorphosed into a sharp, arrogant half-smirk.

Of course he didn't want to answer.

Of course he didn't want to admit what he'd done.

Well, fuck him. It didn't matter what happened to me, so I was going to take him down.

My eyes narrowed and I sneered at Dixon. "That first day I met you, you remember we were looking at the predator from observation?"

Dixon's expression contorted into disbelief and Hassan nodded. "Yes, I recall."

"Shain, think about—"

"_He_ let me inside! Not five minutes earlier! He told me he could let me have a few minutes to ask him personal questions about the incident that happened to me back in Colorado. _Alone_. He told me it was okay! That there wouldn't be a problem! Then he told me that I couldn't let you know!"

I was aware of Devon's surprised look burning into the side of my head. I ignored it: I was far too busy drinking in Dixon's rage from in front of me.

Hassan murmured and regarded Dixon for a moment, knuckles pressed against his thinned lips. After another second, he dropped his hand and said, "You don't say. Dixon, do you care to explain yourself at all?"

Grumbling, Dixon shook his head. "It was a lapse in judgment. . .but I supervised the entire interaction and—"

"And what did she do to raise your suspicion?"

Dixon floundered, shifting his desperate gaze from Hassan to me and back again. Then, red faced, he flailed his hand in my direction. "The way she looked at it, the way she spoke about it and to it. I thought I saw her whispering to it and—she's just been acting so suspicious lately!"

Heat flushed my cheeks. He'd seen? He'd noticed? Maybe it was me throwing up after seeing the predator strapped to the table. Maybe it was me saying weird shit when I was drunk. . . .

Wasn't that just what drunk people did? Dammit!

"So you decided to let her see it even after she's been acting suspicious?" Hassan lifted a brow.

Somehow Dixon managed to turn into a deep shade of puce. "I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. She's been a good agent up until now, did her work and didn't complain. She was even a pleasure to work with. But now I see that was probably all an act."

"Be that as it may," Hassan quipped as he stood. "There will be consequences for what you _both_ have done. You think there is any reason to be giving out top secret information to anyone? It's bad enough they were able to procure the xenomorphs, but now you've handed over _my_ asset."

I couldn't help the self-righteous grin that split my face. There was an urge to stick my tongue out at Dixon, but I resisted it.

Then Hassan turned to me and I wiped the expression away.

"And you—you will be reprimanded for this assault. I must confer with the tapes and investigate the claims against Melvin and Emma. Dixon, I will have you escorted to the hospital, please head down stairs. Devon, come with me so that we may confer together. The good doctor will need to speak with her and we should leave her be."

With some reluctance, Devon stood from his chair and followed after Hassan. Dixon, grumbling the whole time, had already stormed out. "You'll be okay?" Devon asked.

_Stop_. I didn't want him to care.

His concern elicited another embarrassed blush and I jerked my head away from him. "I'll be fine. I'm not a child."

I hid my chagrin behind barbed words. Why? Why was I suddenly so flustered?

He nodded and forced a goofy grin on his face before giving me a thumbs up. "Alright, see you soon then. Get well soon."

"Shut up," I whispered, rolling my eyes.

It was hard not to return his smile, so I kept my gaze averted. He'd saved me and I was grateful. That was all it could be. It was all it was _allowed _to be. Hassan informed me that he, too, would return to deal with my violence toward a superior and ushered Devon out, closing the door behind them.

Sensing his moment had arrived, Doctor Lee left the calm of his office. "Alright, how are you feeling now?" he asked me.

*:･ﾟ✧

By the time Hassan and Devon returned, I was up and hobbling from bed to bed. It was as if I was back in physical therapy, and I was itching to run and move like I always did. At least this time it was temporary. Not like the limp that was a constant reminder of my minor disability.

"I see you're mobile," Hassan observed, standing in the entrance.

"Kind of," I muttered to myself. Doctor Lee had refused to give me pain killers for the headache, lest they clash with the sedative. Instead, I'd taken to using an ice pack to reduce the swelling where Melvin had struck me in the back of the head.

Devon walked in behind Hassan and pushed past him. He wore an expression I was more familiar with—like a happy puppy glad to be outside its kennel.

"Good interrogation?" I asked him.

He shrugged and grinned. "They're gonna get theirs, that's all. Batshit crazy, though. Melvin was in the hospital in surgery, but that Emma lady. . .definitely a crackpot. Talking about the xenos being a divine race. . .that we should all let them impregnate us."

"Mr. Hart," Hassan warned with a sharp quip, his harsh gaze turned toward him.

With his hands up in surrender, Devon said, "Sorry, sorry. Can't speak ill of former employees or whatever, but what do you expect? They tried to kill my partner. I'm not gonna treat them like they were the victims in all this." His tone was just as crisp.

Hassan sighed, then straightened his suit and looked to me. "Ms. Shain, we reviewed the tapes from the xenomorph labs. I've determined you were acting in self-defense, though I'm still uncertain about why you were down there in the first place. However, you have the clearance and were within your rights to visit the lab. . .so we will investigate your motive later."

"Or I could just tell you right now—I was going to try to talk some sense into those Weyland people, try to oversee that they were moving them correctly, but they'd already left."

"And," Hassan said, brows raised, "that was when you met Mindy."

"Correct." Not bad for a half-baked story I'd made up.

Again, he sighed. "Well, as for the tapes with Dixon, I cannot condone what you did even if I understand why. Barring self-defense, as was the case with the three scientists, there is no reason to strike another employee. . .especially your former superior."

I glowered down at the bed I was supporting myself against.

"So, I'm going to have to bench you for a while. No suspensions—this time—but you are no longer a field agent until I say otherwise. Instead you will be confined to your desk, filing paperwork and filling reports." He said it as if _he_ was the one receiving such a punishment.

Not that it mattered. Today was my last day.

"Furthermore I—"

Doctor Lee shoved open his door and we all turned toward him. "Joseph, Susan is on the line and says she must speak with you—it's urgent."

He looked at each of us in turn, then excused himself with a curt nod. Doctor Lee let him have privacy in his room and looked everywhere but at us. I rolled my eyes and limped to the sink to grab myself a cup of water. My ice pack was no longer an _ice_ pack, so I set it down on the counter.

"Hey, the big girl's learned how to walk," Devon snickered.

"Devon I promise you I can still shuffle over there and kick your ass," I snapped. I downed the cup of water in one swig and tossed the empty container at him.

All he had to do was lean to move out of the way, but he let it hit him square in the chest anyway. He clutched at the spot and reeled, groaning as if in pain. "Ahh, I'm hit! Man down, man down! Oh, cruel fate. . . ." He fell onto one of the beds and grasped at the air.

I rolled my eyes and turned to fill another cup to hide the smile teasing at my lips. "Stop being such a fucking spaz. I know you're just trying to make me feel better."

The bed creaked but I didn't turn around. "Is it working?"

"No." I said it without conviction.

"Damn. Well, I'll just have to try harder while we're stuck on desk duty for the next ten billion years, or ol' Joseph decides he needs us," he said. I finally turned to see him sitting up.

"What do you mean? You're not stuck to desk duty, just I am."

He shrugged and stood up to examine a jar full of tongue depressors. "You think I'm gonna let them assign me some random no-name as a new partner so I can go gallivanting across the country solving mysteries without you? Nah no way."

"Please leave those alone," Doctor Lee groaned. He hurried over to take the jar from Devon and put it back in its place. Devon lifted his hands and left the counter to sit back in his chair.

Doctor Lee straightened up his space to make sure Devon hadn't touched anything else. Then he turned back to the two of us and said, "You should have full mobility soon. You're free to leave when Hassan has finished speaking with you. How's your head?"

I reached back and felt the knot that had formed. Doctor Lee had told me I was lucky the skin hadn't broken. "Hurts, but I'll live."

"Yeah, it will for a while. You sure you don't want me have Allison check for a concussion?"

"I'm fine." I wasn't going to the hospital for a single sucker punch.

"If you change your mind, or the headaches worsens, don't hesitate to visit her. Otherwise, you'll be fine to take pain meds in another four or five hours, when the drug should be flushed from your system completely," he said.

"Yup, I will. I'll be fine, though." Once I figured out how to find my way to California, free the predator, and kill off the rest of the Xenos. Then I'd high-tail it the fuck out of Dodge.

Disappear forever.

A disgruntled Hassan exited the doctor's office and motioned to Devon. "Devon, please accompany me again. We have to speak with the scientists post haste. There may have been yet another, ah, incident, and we must confer with them."

"And Nichole?"

"Nichole will return to the offices and write up a formal report of what happened in the Xenomorph labs and with Dixon—due on my desk by five. Yours, Devon, will be due tomorrow morning at the latest. Now come." He spun on his heel and left without another word.

Devon shifted to me then shrugged as if to say "I gave it my best shot," then followed after him. I huffed and started toward the door. "Thanks for your help, doc."

"It's my job. . .hope I don't see you too soon, but hope your head feels better. Remember, if you feel dizzy or light-headed, you'll need to pay Allison a visit. Just to make sure he didn't hit you hard enough to cause any real damage."

I waved at him as I made torturous progress out the door. "I know, I'll remember. Have a good one." And with that, I let the door swing shut behind me and headed to my new desk.

To fill out paperwork.

_Ugh._

*:･ﾟ✧

Ten minutes into writing my first report, I remembered.

What was I doing? I didn't have to try. None of this would matter in the long run. I deleted the try-hard sentences I'd made and spent my time doing other things. Like researching the best way to California, and figuring out where the office was. I tried to see what security was like at Weyland Corp., but there wasn't much.

On top of that, I wanted to know why Hassan needed Devon. What could have happened. It required the aid of the scientists working on the xenos. . . .

Had something happened during transit?

I decided to stop procrastinating and fired up that report again. I threw the date and time of incident up as a header, then dove into the report. "I ran into the xenomorph observation room and found some bitch named Mindy making goo-goo eyes at the queen. . . ." I followed with more of the most _professional_ and _articulate_ sentences I could muster, and did the same for Dixon's incident.

Once printed, I stuffed the papers under some paperwork already on Hassan's desk. I hoped it would be a while before he saw them. Anything to stall the shitstorm I'd receive once he discovered my _well-written_ recollections.

My phone jingled in my pocket. I checked the caller ID before answering the call. "Why don't you walk up to the office if you want to talk to me?"

"Can't get away right now," Devon muttered, voice so quiet I had to strain to listen. "I only just now managed to slip away to make this call, and I don't know how long until Hassan comes to find me. I figured you'd want to know."

"Know what?"

He paused. "The group in charge of transporting the xenos and predator haven't checked in since they left here. They were supposed to stop at a private airport along the way as a checkpoint, where a team would meet them to transfer and re-administer sedatives, but nothing."

All at the once, the rug was out from under me. My legs gave out and I fell back into my seat. Head spinning and throat tight, I ran through the implications of what that meant.

They were loose. Somewhere in the country, those abominations were loose.

"You're sure?" My voice was nothing but a whisper. I wasn't sure I'd even spoke.

Devon hummed in the affirmative. "I gotta go, Hassan's calling. We're down in the labs."

The line went dead without another word. I surged to me feet and marched for the elevators. I ignored the strange look the others in the office gave me, as they were of no consequence.

The sound of the door slamming shut seemed miles away.

*:･ﾟ✧

"Nichole, what are you doing down here?" Hassan demanded as I entered his field of vision.

I made a bee-line at him, expression set. "Do we know where they went down?"

Devon shrank away from Hassan's razor-sharp glare, but the man said nothing about my partner's indiscretion. "You are off field duty and under suspension for the next week, this does not concern you. Finish your reports and _go home_."

"Not happening," I hissed through clenched teeth, meeting his eyes without flinching. "Where did they go down?"

He pointed a finger at me and growled, "Ms. Shain this is a direct order and if you don't—"

"With all due respect," I spat, "I have finished my reports and I am the _most_ qualified person to handle this situation. _Where did they go down_?"

Before Hassan could retort, Devon stepped between us. "There are reports of a radio tower near Gunnison, Colorado receiving a distress signal from a private craft. It's said there was a lot of interference, so they couldn't make out any ID numbers. They also reported strange noises."

My blood ran cold, but I kept my exterior collected. Hassan looked about ready to backhand Devon and his cool composure was shattered for the first time since I'd seen him.

"You _both_ are out of line!"

Already my patience was thin; every moment Hassan wasted with his displays of power was a moment that the predator could be in danger, or that the xenos could be spending building a new nest and terrorizing town folk. I lunged before I could think better of it and grabbed Hassan by his lapels—a difficult task with him towering above me by half a foot.

"Listen here, _sir_. I am the best shot you have at bringing back the predator and any of those xenos. Weyland has shown their incompetence. We can stand around and bicker and dick measure all day long, or we could jump to the end of the argument where _I_ win."

Though his expression was neutral, there was a fire burning behind his eyes. I released my grip on his shirt and took a step back, allowing him to readjust his collar.

I continued, building momentum. "I am sure you have capable operatives under your command who can deal with a single predator, but I'm the only one here who knows what those the xenos are like in person. The complacent, half-drugged things you had in that room are nothing compared to the killing machines out there now."

"What makes you think they survived the crash?" he asked, voice unwavering despite the pent-up anger underneath.

It was impossible not to laugh. "Are you serious? It took the _entire_ reservoir to burn the queen alive before Mindy could let her out. I'm sure you've already asked the lab techs whether or not they could have survived. What did they say?"

He stared at me in disdain. He knew what I was asking. "The predator most likely didn't survive."

His words sent me reeling as if he'd struck me. My heart seized and my resolve faltered for a fraction of a second.

No. I wouldn't believe it.

They were better than that. He was fine. He had to be fine. "Do you really believe that after hunting one down for all these years?"

He raised his head and huffed, electing to ignore my question. "Protocol says to involve the military if there is threat of a break out. We need to find where they crashed and quarantine to make sure they're all dead. Sending agents isn't protocol."

Devon spoke up at that time. "Why not? Send someone to find the crash and talk to locals. We can go, be there in a few hours, and decide whether anyone survived the crash."

"Then we'll call and tell you if you need to send someone."

Hassan looked between the two of us. "Weyland will be sending people to retrieve what they think belongs to them."

"You can stall them, send them on a wild goose chase. These things aren't theirs. They stole our assets. Give me a chance to bring them back. Then, when this over, I'll fulfill my suspension. You can add another week to it, make it a month, whatever. I'll be on desk duty forever if that's what it takes." An empty gesture.

"What could it hurt?" Devon shrugged. "One last field mission."

The anger I'd seen dissipated from Hassan and he rubbed his face, head down. Devon and I waited, everything hinging on his decision. It wouldn't matter for me—if he said no, I'd go anyway. I was certain I could purchase last minute tickets at the airport and go on my own, but it would be easier if Hassan would cooperate.

Devon—I wasn't sure what his motive was. Was it like he said and he wanted to go on one last mission with me before I was stuck on filing duty?

Whatever it was, I was going to make sure he didn't come with me.

"Alright. I'll call ahead and get you a plane. I'll keep Weyland away for as long as possible. Decide if anything survived and if quarantine is necessary, then contact me to report. If you mess up If you mess up, I'll see to it _personally_ that the only jobs you'll ever qualify for is flipping patties."

Though Devon stiffened next to me, I was unperturbed by the threat. I nodded and released the breath I'd been holding. He fell for it. "You won't regret this, sir."

"See that I don't."

I turned on my heel, Devon at my flank, and we headed upstairs. "What did the scientists say?" I asked, all business. I wouldn't look at him, dreading the moment I'd have to tell him he wasn't coming with me.

He'd argue, but I was confident I could convince him.

"Sedatives might have worn off faster than expected. They might have been faking it. . .they have a lot of theories. Nothing concrete," he said.

We stepped out at the ground floor. I had my phone out, checking bus routes that would bring me to the private airport we often used to travel. "How typical. Listen, Devon, I need you to stay here this time."

He grabbed my shoulder and jerked me to a stop. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I can't let you jeopardize your career over this. This is something I can handle on my own, and I'm already on thin ice. If something happens, I should be the one who gets screwed."

Devon shook his head. "Don't worry about me. You'll need the backup. These things are pretty bad, aren't they? What makes you think you could handle the dozen or so that might have survived on your own? Do you think the predator will help you—if he even made it out unscathed?"

We moved outside and Devon pulled me around the corner for privacy. I pulled my arm from his gentle grip and shook my head. "I don't _need_ a partner for this, Devon."

"Why?"

"I have to do this on my own!"

_You'll die, just like them. My fault._

Sighing, he shot me a half-smile and put his hand on my shoulder. "In my experience, that's when someone needs a partner the most."

His sentimentality touched and sickened me at the same time. That smile made my heart skip a beat and I looked away from him. From his sympathetic smile. "I'm not planning on coming back, Devon. I wasn't lying when I said this would be my last mission. I don't need to drag you down with me."

His expression faded into worry and he frowned at me. He had both hands on my shoulders, now, and we locked eyes. "That's ridiculous, Nichole. I'm _coming_ with you. And I'll bring you back."

_You don't understand_.

"No matter what."

It was impossible to argue when he looked at me like that. When my chest was so tight. He didn't understand. He wouldn't ever understand. But I knew—I didn't know why I'd bothered to try to convince him. Devon was coming with me. There was nothing I could do to change that.

I broke our eye contact first and turned to avoid it further. "Fine. But there's something I need to pick up from my apartment first."


	11. Turning, Haunting, Yearning

**Hello, readers!**

**Lookie here, an update! Sorry it's taken so long. XP The rewrite of Phantasm is also going a little slow, finding it harder to implement the things I want to change, but there should be more updates coming eventually. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter! I hope it doesn't feel too rushed, and sorry if there are any mistakes that slipped past me and my beta. **

**I know you're all waiting patiently, and let me just let you know that next chapter it's coming! The wait is almost over haha. X3 I hope to get that chapter out soon, but I don't know how soon. Still got a lot going on writing-wise! **

* * *

Chapter Ten

Turning, Haunting, Yearning

Wolf's computer sat in my bag, comfort for the coming mission. Also tucked away, hidden by a spare jacket, was the talisman he'd given me all those years ago. It seemed wrong and insulting to leave it behind when I left.

Forever.

Devon schmoozed with the pilot up front while I stared out the window, watching the scenery pass by. Or really, the clouds. The ground below was obscured by the lazy formations, only peeking out every once in a while. Around me, the drone of the jet engine threatened to lull me into a nap.

My stomach wouldn't allow it. It flipped and churned into a concoction of worry, fear, anticipation, and nervousness. It was the same feeling I used to get when I was preparing for a match.

But now it was tinged with another, less familiar sensation: excitement.

It was muted by all the other emotions, but it was still there in the back of my mind. Excitement not for the mission ahead, not for being outside the office and doing something, but that warm tingle in your chest when you know you're about to meet with an old friend you haven't seen in ages. It was lined with questions and concerns.

How had he changed? Would we still get along? Be compatible?

Would he still be a giant dickhead? My head throbbed at the prospect of earning another swift slap to the back of my skull.

What if he didn't remember me? Or want to see me again?

What if his offer had expired?

They were the same thoughts I always had when I considered calling him. The same thoughts that _kept_ me from calling him for all these years.

Part of me was worried about the predator we'd captured, as well. Wolf and a few members of his clan—some of them—had survived a crash-landing from somewhere in orbit, so I knew he had a chance. The question was: how much of a chance? He was drugged and restrained, and who knew what effects that would have.

And what of the xenos? Their condition was also a giant hole in our sights.

Fucking idiots. They should have known better than to ship the two species out together. I could only imagine there was a high chance most of them survived the plane crash. They were just as hardy, maybe more so, as the predators.

"Alright, so tell me."

I jumped at the sound of Devon's voice, but managed to keep myself from lashing out. I glowered at him and asked, "Tell you what?"

"About the thing you brought."

"What thing?" I countered too quickly, pushing my bag closer against my side.

He cocked his head to the side and gave me a withering look. "Don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you. The thing you were hastily stuffing into your bag when you were leaving your apartment. The thing you've been protecting that bag like a hawk for."

"Nothing," I insisted. "It's just gonna be our backup for when shit hits the fan."

"You think something bad's gonna happen?" He took the bait.

"'Something bad' is what the xenos are made of," I intoned, closing my eyes. Their shrieks echoed in the far recesses of my consciousness.

Devon leaned back in his seat and propped his feet up on the chair in front of him. "I'm sure they are, the way you go on about them. We've handled a few tough cases, though. We'll be fine, just like we always are."

"Yeah, maybe." He wouldn't be singing the same tune after facing one for the first time.

"Gonna take a nap, soak up some of this heat before we're stuck freezing our asses off in the mountains. It really that bad?"

I closed the shutter to my window, casting the cabin into darkness. "This time of the year, yeah."

"Alright. Well, wake me when we're landing," he grunted, eyes shut.

Like the turbulence wouldn't do that for me. All the same, I mumbled an affirmative and stared at the screen up front, playing our current course. We only had three hours left out of our two hour flight. Three hours for me to kill.

Though I didn't know when I would next be able to sleep, I couldn't find the ability to nap. I watched the tiny plane icon drift across the map until it drifted out of my attention span.

My partner shifted to make himself more comfortable and I watched him for a second. He was a capable agent and though I hadn't had any other partner, I knew he was one of the better ones. If there was one thing I was going to do before I left, it was make sure he made it out of this alive.

I would do things _right_ this time.

*:･ﾟ✧

It seemed that Devon could sleep through anything, even a rough landing.

Even through the turbulence of descent and roar of the engine, he continued to sleep. I, on the other hand, was woken from the doze I had finally fallen into, and I shook Devon until he woke up.

"We there?" he grunted, rubbing drool from the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah, get out." I suppressed a yawn.

He scoffed. "Once we land."

Our pilot offered us a fond farewell and we thanked him for the ride before departing into the crisp mountain air of Colorado Springs. Though the sun wouldn't set for three or four hours, this high in the mountains it got cold quick.

I had never been to the Colorado Springs Airport, but it wasn't anything to write home about. It had a tarmac and runway and a building, like any other airport. It was nowhere near the scale of the Denver International Airport, but it was just as obnoxious. Even more so: we were on a private jet so we had to make a break for the building across the tarmac.

Once inside, it was all the same awful experience of wading through people and searching for gates, but dulled down because of the small size of the airport.

"Joseph said we'd take a helicopter to Gunnison to make the trip quicker," Devon said in my ear.

"Who?" I muttered. There was no reason to be as discreet as we were, but it was a habit hard to break. No one here cared what we were doing or why we were doing it.

He stared at me for a second then furrowed his brow. "Mr. Hassan."

"Oh. Right."

"Are you okay? You seem really distracted."

There had to be somewhere I could get away from him for a couple minutes. "Yeah, I'm fine. Listen, I'm gonna go the bathroom. I'll meet you over there by that. . .I guess it's a book store?"

"Sure," he shrugged. "I'll call Joseph and see about that helicopter."

We exchanged waves and I searched out the bathrooms. Locking myself in a family restroom so I'd be alone, I spread my shit out on the baby changing table and unwrapped Wolf's computer from the extra clothes. I'd told Devon to bring lots of warm clothes and some comfortable shoes to hike in, but he hadn't brought much at all.

Whatever. He'd learn his lesson.

Truth be told, I hadn't taken too many changes of clothes with me, either. Only what I thought I needed. My active shoes—not my running shoes—some warm clothes, a light jacket, and a heavy jacket. We didn't plan to spend more than a day and a half looking for the wreck.

If we couldn't find anything in that time frame, then it was already too late.

Like before, we'd have to end it all as quick as possible. We'd lost so many hours on traveling alone. The xenos would have had plenty of time to recover and find their way to a population. A whole town within their reach. . . .

I stared at Wolf's computer and pulled it in front of me after I'd changed out of my awful work suit and into the casual, warm clothes for the mission.

_Now or later?_

If I did it now, what were the chances he'd arrive at the airport and not in Gunnison? It didn't make any sense, though, and I wanted to make sure I did it early enough that it wouldn't be too late when he arrived.

_Now._

Before I could change my mind, I swiped my fingers across the screen, pleased to see I was thinking clearly enough to remember the god damn sequence. It lit up and started blinking, and a pit opened up in my stomach. This was it.

Taking a deep breath, I tucked the machine away and left. My bag was suddenly heavy on my arm, burdened by my own apprehension.

Devon was where I'd left him, lounging against the wall next to the book store. He stepped up as I approached and pointed somewhere behind me. "Hey, alright, so the helicopter is being fueled, so you wanna grab a bite to eat?"

"I'm not that hungry, but I'm not gonna stop you from eating," I said.

His brow creased and he opened his mouth to say something, then shut it and sighed. He said instead, "Alright. But when we get to Gunnison, you're eating something."

"Yeah, sure," I sighed. In reality I wasn't sure we'd even be able to eat anything when we made it to the town, either. We were already stuck at the airport, and there was a few places to choose from to get a bite to eat.

I wasn't hungry—or, rather, I was too nervous to be hungry—but I would need the strength. We both would.

"Never mind. We're here anyway until the chopper is fueled, let's just eat something."

"Oh thank god," Devon groaned, taking my wrist and hauling me toward the nearest Burger King stand. "I'm _starving_."

"Well then why didn't you just go eat?" I chided.

He flashed a grin at me. "Didn't want to be rude and eat in front of you."

Heat flooded my face and I glowered at the tile beneath our feet. "You're a giant idiot."

Devon ordered nothing less than the entire menu and I picked out a modest bacon cheeseburger with a side of fries and a water.

"So what can I expect going into this?" he asked halfway through his first entrée—nuggets.

Though he'd picked a table far from anyone else, I still looked for potential eavesdroppers and swallowed my bite. "Is this appropriate airport talk?"

"Why not?"

"These yahoos don't need to know anything about our work."

"They can't even hear us. They wouldn't even know what we're talking about," he insisted, pointing a fry at me. "C'mon, I took a nap on the plane so I couldn't ask."

"I fail to see how that's my fault."

A wadded-up straw wrapper hit my forehead and I glared concentrated rage at Devon, diffused by his goofy smirk. "C'mon, tell me what I can expect. You're the expert here."

I rolled my eyes and sat back in my chair. "You saw them in the lab and read the files."

"Yeah, but how accurate are the reports?"

Anything left of my appetite fled. I dropped my burger and pressed my fingertips against my forehead, throat dry and lips pursed. "It's so much worse. Our only hope is if the predator survived and his weapons were on that plane."

"There's really nothing we can do?" he asked, his mouth full.

"Our handguns won't do any damage. Maybe if we can get a hold of some heavier firepower we might be okay. I have back-up coming, though."

He nodded toward my bag, sitting on the floor at my feet. "What's in the bag, you mean?"

Nodding, I took a few long droughts from my water. "It's not a guarantee, though."

"Just tell me what it is. You steal a weapon from R&amp;D?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"What? No. I just made a call, that's all." I kept my eyes on my tray, pulled out the slice of bacon, and started nibbling on it.

"To who?" Devon asked when I didn't elaborate.

"An old friend. Finish eating so we can go," I flicked a burnt fry at him and it hit him in the chest.

"Okay, _Mom_." He still had two burgers to down. "But we'll talk about it later."

I shrugged and tried to keep the food I ate down. "Whatever you say."

*:･ﾟ✧

The helicopter ride cut a chunk of time from our travel. If we'd rented a car, it would have taken close to four hours to make it to Gunnison. Four hours we didn't have. We touched down atop the city's hospital, abreast of the emergency chopper. Devon and I jogged for the door, ducking against the wind created by the rotors.

As promised, the sheriff was waiting for us in the lobby of the enormous hospital. He was bundled up against the cold in a puffy police jacket. His dark features were soft, but his greeting smile was reserved and worried.

"Evening, agents. My name's Eddie Morales, I'm the sheriff here in town."

"Nichole Shain," I said, shaking his hand. "This is my partner, Devon Hart."

He shook Morales' hand as well, grinning. "Pleasure to meet you."

Morales led us outside the hospital to the curb where his car was parked, the air frosted for autumn. He said, "I wish I could be more help, but I don't know much about the crash. You said one of your planes carrying precious cargo went down in the forest?"

"That's correct, Sheriff," I said, hands fisted at my sides to keep them from shaking. We were so close to our goal.

"Well, maybe it has something to do with my missing hunters."

My heart crashed into the soles of my feet and I was left to digest that while Devon picked up my slack. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Buddy Benson and his son Sam went hunting early this morning and his wife says he hasn't come back. This wouldn't normally be cause for alarm, but he gave her a set time he'd be back and it's been hours past that," Morales explained, stopping by his car.

_Buddy Benson. _What the hell kind of hick name was that? Buddy.

"I went looking for him myself earlier, all I found was his empty Jeep."

Devon nodded and I composed myself. My partner said, "You think they might have been caught up in the crash and injured?" He sent me a knowing glance and I shuddered inwardly.

"It's a possibility, yes. Deputy Ray is in the process of organizing a search party."

"May we join?" I asked, cutting off whatever Devon was about to say.

Morales looked at me in surprise and asked, "You want to help find them?"

"Finding your two missing citizens and our plane might be one in the same," I amended. "It's imperative we find them and the cargo, and if they're alive we need to know what they saw."

He shrugged and motioned to the SUV, ignoring my use of the word _if_. "Sure. We'll head out there now, unless you want to stop somewhere first? You did just land, after all.

"No," I said, forcing a smile. "We'll be fine."

"You heard the lady," Devon said, loading into the passenger seat. "Sweet ride."

"As you wish," Morales said. I took my seat in the back, content to distance myself from the two men and their conversations.

I was too far into my own thoughts to focus on the mission and being a proper agent. How old was this Sam kid and how long had they been out? The timeframe was too skewed and I didn't know the exact moment any of this had happened.

I'd made it to work around seven, Weyland had taken the xenos and the predator around, what? Seven thirty? Eight? That put the crash around noon or one. It had taken us five or so hours to travel, and the clock was preparing to strike six thirty. Darkness was creeping in, so any incubated chestbursters would be. . . .

Already out. Close to maturity.

How far was the crash from town? They would have found it already, infiltrated somewhere. They'd need a nest. At least it was too early for a queen. They would only be able to reproduce so much before a queen was chosen and began to change.

"How was your flight out here?" Morales asked, speaking loud enough to address me.

"Not bad," Devon said. "Pretty important mission, so we were flown out in a fancy private jet, then the helicopter ride wasn't too bad. Never been on one of those before."

"I have," I almost whispered, rubbing my legs. "Too loud for my tastes."

"I imagine you can't talk about the mission?"

"No," I said quickly.

Devon leaned in to Morales and said, "Between you and me, it's aliens."

I glared daggers at the back of Devon's head and kneed his seat, but Morales laughed. "Oh, yeah alright. I'll be sure to keep that one a secret. . . . Aliens."

Though the two of them had a five minute hardy-har-har fest over Devon's stupid joke-not-joke, I didn't participate in the merriment. Devon might have dealt with his pre-mission jitters by cracking jokes and making nice with the locals, but I liked peace and quiet.

I glanced at the front, but the two men were busy having bro moments so I pulled my bag onto my lap and moved the contents around until I could see the computer.

Blinking. I took it for a good sign.

A bone fragment poked out from its wrappings. I pulled the fabric away and ran my fingers over the smooth, bleached jawbone. A testament to what I'd been through, if the scar on my shoulder wasn't enough evidence. I carefully tucked it into my inside pocket and closed the bag.

The small town buildings gave way to woods and my chest constricted. I turned my gaze away from the trees and shifted to the edge of my seat. "Sheriff?"

"Call me Eddie."

"Eddie, then—have you noticed anything strange happen in town the past few hours?" Might as well pretend to be an agent for a little while longer. Distract myself from the coming search.

"Besides Buddy and Sam going missing—well, no. Not really."

Devon jumped on it before I could. "Doesn't sound like nothing."

The sheriff fidgeted where he sat and then shook his head. "One of my officers found an arm at the entrance to the sewers. We're not sure who's it belongs to, but one of the homeless that squat down there, his dog was chewing on it."

"That's gross," Devon muttered. Professional as always.

"Anything else?"

Eddie looked at me in the rearview mirror and scrunched his face. "Why? What was on the plane? Something dangerous?"

"I told you, aliens," Devon snickered. I kicked his seat again.

This time, Eddie didn't laugh, but offered a terse chuckle. "There you go again."

"Yeah, he's a real laugh riot," I said, rolling my eyes. I was going to hit my partner before the night ended.

We pulled up to a large group of people and cars, all milling about and huddled up against the cold. All the able-bodied citizens of Gunnison were present at the start of the trail. The deputy, Ray as Eddie had called him, was setting up teams as we parked.

"Eddie," Ray called, raising his hand.

"We ready to get started?" the sheriff asked, clapping his deputy over the shoulder.

"Sure are. These your agents?"

He spread his arm toward us. "Yes, agents Shain and Hart, fresh from the Federal Bureau of Investigation. They've offered to help with the search."

"The more the merrier. I'll get you some flashlights."

As he left, Devon and I turned to Eddie and I asked, "How much does he know?"

"Just that a plane crashed, same as me. We've all kind of put two and two together, that they might have been hurt by the crash," he explained, passing us some flashlights handed to him by Ray.

"You two can stay with our group. We're going to fan out and go until dark," Ray said.

"We'll keep an eye out for anything about your crash, hope one can lead to the other."

I motioned to the other citizens. "And them?"

"We haven't told them anything, if that's what you're asking," Eddie assured, sounding almost insulted by the question.

Devon nodded. "Probably best. The less people we involve, the better."

Ray and Eddie relayed the plan to the rest of the party and I pressed my bag tight to my side; it seemed to pulsate. Palms clammy and throat tight, I stared into the waiting darkness between the trees.

My heart thundered in my chest, eyes darting around. Everything around me tunneled and the words the officers spoke faded into obscurity. It had been years since I'd set food in a forest, and my legs felt as if I was going to collapse at any second.

Wolf needed to hurry.

The glint of flashlights, the low murmur of the citizens, even the chill in the air and way the wind blew through the leaves was enough to set my teeth on edge.

_Too many people_.

_We should stick together, not spread out._

Gently, a breeze rustled my hair and the cold seeped past my clothes, settling into my bones. I was rooted to the spot, the trees before me rising up, looming as if to swallow me. The shadows moved between the branches, taunting and cruel. From inside my mind came the slow crescendo of building screeches and wails.

All of a sudden I couldn't breathe. My breaths came in short huffs and a tremble started deep in my chest, radiating out to my shoulders and rocking my frame.

I was lost in that devouring darkness, eyes prickling.

From within screamed my friends. _"Nichole wait!"_

A hand lighted on my shoulder and I was wrenched from the black memories. He took a step back when I came close to hitting him, his forehead creased with concern.

"Devon," I exhaled, unsteady from standing straight-legged for so long.

"Woah there," he said, holding his hand out to steady me. I didn't take it. "You alright?"

Nodding, I said, "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be fine?"

_Breathe and count to ten. _

Eddie walked over, about to say something, but closed his mouth and glanced between the two of us. "Is everything okay? She looks like she's seen a ghost."

Face burning, I averted my gaze. "I'm fine. There's nothing wrong."

_ Just breathe._

Before they could press further, a harried woman handed me a sheet of paper and I lifted it up to see in the dying sunlight. "Here, a picture so you know who to look for. Thank you so much for helping me find them."

"Of course, Mrs. Benson," I said, sparing a few seconds to check it.

Didn't matter. They were likely dead.

How many more would die in the next few hours?

Swallowing hard, I showed the picture to Devon. He studied it and huffed in amusement. "Guy certainly looks like a Buddy. Kid's cute. Hope we can find them," he said, folding the printout and sliding it into his pocket.

"Yeah," I said, voice low and lacking conviction.

Ray and Eddie signaled for the search to begin before it was too dark. When I didn't immediately move out, Devon set his hand on my upper arm and pulled me away from the crowd by a few feet.

"You don't have to come. Someone can take you back to town and you can book us some rooms. Or something," he said, all traces of his previous mirth gone. I glanced up to gauge his expression and saw the same look he'd wore when he found me incapacitated in the labs.

Taking a deep breath, I shifted my gaze to the woods and balled my hands into tight fists, my fingernails biting into the flesh. "No."

"No one would think less of you. I can come up with a story no problem," he assured me.

I shook my head and met his eyes. "No, it's fine. I can do this. I have to do this."

Eddie and Ray came over to see what we were doing and Devon took up a more professional position next to me. "Is something the matter, agents?"

Devon turned to me for the answer and I squared my shoulders. "No, nothing's wrong. Just had a bad experience in the forest back home. I'm from Estes Park, and I went camping a lot with my family. The last time was—it wasn't a good trip. I'll be fine, though."

"No kidding. Well, there's nothing in these woods to be worried about," Ray said, giving me a reassuring smile. "No bears or lions or wild elk."

My partner and I shared significant looks, and I took another deep breath. "Yup, good."

"Shall we?" Devon asked, raising his hand for me to go first.

It took me another split second to dispel any lingering doubts and fears, then I was following the two police officers into the woods. I wasn't going to run away because I was scared, because of the ghosts of my past.

This time it was going to be different. Sure I was scared, but I'd prove I was better than my fear. That I was the warrior Wolf thought I was.


	12. Old Acquaintance

**Hello, readers!**

**What is this? Another chapter? And it hasn't been two or three weeks? What is this nonsense? **

**Well, I guess just think of it as a late Christmas/New Years present. We're getting into the good shit so maybe I'll pump them out a lot quicker! It'll probably help that I already had a lot of this story already written after this point. Most of it, actually. There'll still be a lot of re-writing since Devon wasn't included and Nichole was an entirely different person in the very first draft, but whatever. **

**As of 12/30 the review system has been on the fritz, but I'll still be able to read your reviews from my email! So please, feel free to send all that delicious Wolf love to my inbox ;) Once the backlog is cleared reviews should start updating on the site! Just waiting for an admin to get it together and fix that at this point. **

**And now, the moment you've all been waiting for. . . . Hope it was worth the wait. ;) **

* * *

Chapter Eleven

Old Acquaintance

I waited for the screaming.

I waited for the screeches and the gunfire.

They never came.

Every nerve was alert, every sense strained to the maximum. I kept my eyes on the darkness between the trees, in the branches. Twilight faded into pitch and the sounds of the searchers crying for Sam and Buddy sent shivers down my spine.

If there was anything out here, it would know where we were.

My thoughts told me to warn them, to tell them to run back to town, but the need for secrecy battered the urge down.

We hiked for a few hours, fanned out from one another. High-grade flashlights pierced the darkness with rays of white light, banishing the shadows for scant seconds before it bore down on me with a crippling pressure.

Devon remained close, muttering platitudes to keep me calm. It worked, for the most part.

Though it would only grant me a few seconds, I kept my useless sidearm up. It followed the steady beam of my flashlight and ready to fire.

The bushes rustled at my side and I swept my light over it, breathing instantly shallow. Devon grabbed my arm and pushed it down with a gentle weight. "Shh, Nichole it's fine. It's a bird, see?" he said, pointing his light upward. A blackbird sat, staring at us with beady eyes.

"Fucking bird jump scares," I muttered, holstering my weapon before I wound up shooting someone on accident.

"We probably woke it up," he mused.

Rolling my eyes, I started walking again. The people of Gunnison never stopped calling for the missing father and son.

But the night was wearing on and there was neither hide nor hair of the two or the crash. There was no sign of the xenomorphs, either. I counted that as both good and bad—good because we were safe for now, and bad because that might mean one thing. . . .

They were in town, nesting and trying to breed.

Two hours past dark, spirits were low and voices were hoarse. The calls had waned, and people were lagging behind. I struggled ahead, leading the pack with Devon, Eddie, and Ray. My legs throbbed with each step, knees shaking, but I forced myself to keep going, scouring the ground for any sign of debris. I kept one eye on the tree line for broken branches.

"Agents, this way."

Devon and I followed Ray's voice to a charred patch of ground. Whatever had been burning was gone, turned to ash and ground into the dirt. I kneeled down and touched the cold, dry spot.

"Where to?" Eddie asked.

I checked over my shoulder for the group of people. They were behind by several meters, still shouting for Buddy and Sam.

"We'll spread out. Whistle if you find something," Devon suggested, gesturing around.

Standing, I said, "I don't have to tell you two that if you find something, we're sending them back to town." I thrust a thumb toward the citizens.

Both officers nodded. Eddie said, "Of course, agent."

At that, we split off to search. I grabbed Devon and held him back, unable to lift my gaze to meet his. "Stay close, Devon. I don't know what kind of shit is going to. . .well, no. I do know. And please, Devon. . . . Stay by my side. You'll be safe."

He stood still for a moment, the only sound his steady breathing. Then, he chuckled and placed his hand on my arm. "Sure thing. I'll do my best."

Relief removed a sliver of tension from my chest and I dropped my grip on him. "Thanks."

However, I knew he didn't understand what I meant. He would assume I was talking about the xenomorphs, but I was talking about Wolf. I didn't know what to expect when we met, how he'd react to another human. His kind hunted us for trophies, took our skulls and mounted them on their mantles. If there was one thing I knew, though, it was that I wasn't technically a human.

The mark on my shoulder made me one of _his kind_. Even if he didn't want to be my mentor anymore, he shouldn't be able to ignore the scar that marked me as a warrior and not prey.

And that left Devon, who was a prime target if he didn't stay close to me.

My better judgment wanted me to tell him. He would be angrier the longer I withheld it, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I had kept it a secret for so long, the words refused to leave no matter how many times I opened my mouth to speak them. They caught in my throat and forced me to swallow them, where they festered in my chest.

Eventually he would find out. I would try to make amends when the time came.

True to his word, he followed me even as we split from the two officers. A few steps in he said, "I've never seen you like this before. Not even at that haunted restaurant. I mean, I understand. That shit's tough for a teenager, but—"

"Could you get to the point or stop talking?" I snapped.

"Sorry. I just, I guess wanna say everything's gonna be okay, y'know? We're in this together. Partners. There's nothing we can't do, cuz we're like super agents."

_Everything is going to be okay._

I stopped short and clenched my eyes shut, trying to dispel the image of my friends, staggering around the dark hallway of that ship. Jess, doubled over and coughing. . . .

_He means well_.

Eyes opening, I turned to him and forced a smile to me face. "Yeah. Super agents. Just keep your eye out. It's hard to see them in the dark." The residual memory of my denial and the death of my friends burned at the back of my skull.

A shrill whistle gathered our attention. We shared a look, then took off at a jog toward the signal. My legs protested each step, but I ignored them.

Devon noticed the increased intensity of my limp and pulled me back. "You okay?"

"Fine. No pain, no gain."

"Okay," he said, indicated to my bag, "Can I at least carry your bag for you?"

Shaking my head, I gripped the strap tighter. True, it was making the hike harder than necessary—it was a messenger and not a backpack—but that was my burden to bear. I wasn't going to let another soul have the computer.

"Alright, if you're sure."

"Positive."

Eddie waited for us between two large oaks, flashlight hovering at the ground by our feet. "We found your crash, agents. This way."

We didn't have to walk much further. Past another set of trees, the plane wreckage spanned. Bits and pieces were strewn about, stuck in trees and littering the ground. I caught myself just as I started to rush the scene, fingers itching to dive into the debris and find my lost predator.

The plane looked small, smashed against the earth. It was a cargo plane, fat and gray, so it was anything but small, and yet it was in pieces and humbled by its fall.

There had to be a way inside.

Somehow I kept myself rooted and turned to the officers. "Send the others back to town. We have to set up a perimeter."

"Do you want some help?"

Devon clapped Ray on the back and smiled. "Nah, we'll be fine. Go wrangle up the citizens. Agent Shain and I will be fine here. Make some calls, uh, use our. . .trajectory and GPS to send out some coordinates and a bunch of other FBI mumbo jumbo."

"Don't want us seeing the aliens, eh?" Eddie mused, letting Devon lead him and his deputy away. I stood watching, waiting.

My partner laughed and shook his head. "It is policy!"

"Aliens?" Ray questioned.

Eddie waved his hand by his head dismissively. "Just a joke. Let's send these people home."

"What about Buddy and Sam?" Ray just didn't give up.

"Take care of your people, first. It's late and they should head home, anyway. We'll secure the cargo on the plane while you do that and then if you want, you can resume the search," I said, using my best authoritative voice.

"Of course," Devon said, "we'll keep an eye out for them as well until you get back."

The two police officers nodded and Devon sent them off with a wave, standing sentry at the two trees they passed through. Then, a moment later, he turned to me and made a wild gesture with his hand. "Okay they're gone. Go ahead."

I didn't have to be told twice. I turned on my heels and made a lap around the wreckage, sweeping my light over every nook and cranny and the ground, looking for any sign. Some glowing blood, melted metal, anything. Eventually I came to a large hole in the left side of the aircraft, where it hit a rock or a tree, and I squeezed inside with my bag against my chest.

"Nichole!" Devon called from outside. "Is it safe to just go in there like that?"

"They're not going to be here," I assured him, squirming past some snapped wires and hanging circuitry. It was a tight squeeze, but I made it into the plane proper with some finagling.

"How do you know?"

The first breath I took was full of dust. I coughed until my lungs cleared, waving my hand in front of me, and searched for a way to let Devon in. "It shouldn't be big enough to nest in. Not the right conditions in this cold weather. That's why they weren't in the woods, they're still searching for a place to make their nest. We're safe out here, unless we find an injured one."

"Alright, then let me in!"

"I'm trying to find a way, calm down."

Still, I took my sweet ass time doing it. I was too busy searching the boxes, every steel container or fluid-filled liquid canister. There was no sign of any of the xenos, each one busted open either from the crash, or melted away from acid.

Dumbasses, the lot of them. Couldn't even think far enough ahead to acid-proof anything.

They thought they could just fly on out with them sedated. Had they even thought to re-apply the sedatives? Or anything?

Hubris.

"Nichole. . . ." Devon whined.

"Alright alright, sorry."

I attempted to kick open the cargo hatch—bad idea. The pain had me on the ground, holding my leg to my chest and teeth gnashing. I'd thought the crash would have made it easy to kick down, but that wasn't the case.

"Did you kick the door?" Devon asked.

"Shut the hell up, Devon."

"Nichole, you know better."

"I said shut up!"

"Limp over here and release the latch. If there's a lock, just break it."

"I have everything under control," I hissed through clenched teeth, hobbling to the large bay door. With a bit of effort and banging, I managed to open the door manually. It probably had a control somewhere, but with the state of the plane I doubted it would have power.

Devon marched up the ramp and shook his head at me. "Why would you kick it? This thing is huge. . .it never would have worked."

Heat burned my neck and cheeks and I was thankful for the dark. "Just drop it ya piece of shit."

"Woah, no need for such hostility," he chuckled, walking past me into the dark.

Glowering, I followed him.

"Find anything?" he asked after a moment.

"Just a lot of empty cages."

"Any sign of the predator?"

"Not here. Either he was dragged off or walked out on his own."

"With just that hole you crawled through?" he asked.

Shrugging I said, "Maybe there's another way out I missed."

He kneeled by a melted containment unit and pulled something out from under it. "Looks like someone was crushed when the plane crashed."

I joined him and aimed my light at the foot he was holding up—black and clawed. Xenomorph.

"Sucks to be it."

"They probably escaped midflight," Devon surmised, dropping the appendage and wiping his hands on his pants. He searched some of the other cages and turned to me. "What do you think? Wounded itself and bled all over the place, then took out the pilots?"

We moved as one to the front of the plane. "That has to be it."

"Chances they survived?"

"Slim to none," I intoned, pushing the door to the cockpit open. It was already ajar and fell off its hinges at the slightest provocation, making both of us jump back in surprise. We shared bemused looks, then made our way inside.

Blood coated the walls, dark and shimmering under the glare of our flashlights. The pilots sat in their seats, bent over and slumped. Their faces were beyond recognition, their chests cleaved and rent into bloody ribbons. The very seats they sat in were shredded and full of holes, fabric hanging by threads. The instruments before them were spattered and dented.

"What the fuck," Devon gagged, arm over his face to avoid the putrid scent of copper and vitriol. The stagnant air reeked of death.

I stayed in the doorway, frozen and nauseous, my own arm over my nose and mouth. It wasn't the first time I'd seen blood, it wouldn't be the last time, but it was the circumstances that wiggled past my defenses. I hadn't known the xenomorphs to maul like this.

The only thing I'd seen were the burst chests. That was plenty bloody, but this. . . .

It was angry. It was vengeance.

To think they were capable of such rage. It wasn't like I couldn't understand how they felt, or why they were angry. . .but such hostility.

"Was there anyone else on this flight?"

"I can only imagine there was," I murmured.

"So where are they?"

Before we could search the rest of the plane, Ray's voice cut through the tension. "Agents? Agents are you in there?"

Groaning, I rolled my eyes and picked my way back through the fallen crates and over melted holes in the hull until both Devon and I were walking down the ramp. Ray was standing nearby, keeping to a respectable distance.

"What do you need, Deputy?" I demanded.

"I told Eddie to head back to town and make sure everyone got there safe, but I wanted to keep looking for Buddy and Sam.

"We can look just fine without—"

"That's great!" Devon interjected, placing a hand on my shoulder. "The pilots are dead, but there may have been others on board and we can't find them."

I glared at my partner, hoping to drill my displeasure directly into his brain, but he wasn't paying me any attention. Whether it was because it was dark or he was ignoring me I couldn't tell. Ray didn't notice anything either and said, "You think someone survived?"

_More like were dragged off the ship._

Devon shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Might have been thrown from the plane or any number of things. We've got the plane secured, so we thought we'd have a look around before calling it a night and continuing in the morning with backup."

If he meant "there's nothing in the plane" when he said "secured", then yeah.

"Sure, how far did you want to search?" Ray asked.

Growling, I pulled Devon aside and swung him around to face me. "What are you doing?" I asked in a harsh whisper.

"What, you said it was safe. That they aren't here," he pointed out. "What's the harm?"

Swearing, I rubbed my face and glanced back at Ray who was watching us curiously, but trying not to make it obvious by examining the broken plane wing. "He doesn't know anything. What if he comes across something he _can't_ know about? The predator? A xeno carcass?"

"Then we'll just kill him."

"_Devon_!"

He pushed me playfully and chuckled. "I'm just kidding. It'll be fine. He wouldn't know what he was looking at anyway."

"Maybe. . .except you thought it'd be_ hilarious_ if you told Eddie we were looking for _aliens_!"

"It _was_ funny!"

I groaned, half a second from slapping him silly. "Devon. . .you need to take this seriously!"

"I am taking this seriously, Nichole," he soothed, both his hands on my shoulders. "Just because I don't have my deadly face on like you do doesn't mean I don't know this is serious. But you're going to worry yourself sick if you don't loosen up just a little bit."

Shaking my head, I pulled away from him. "You don't know anything, Devon. Bring him if you want, but don't say I didn't warn you."

With that, I turned and headed back into the woods, scanning the ground for clues.

*:･ﾟ✧

_Just tell him. It'll be easier._

The thoughts plagued me as we searched in a mile radius of the crash. If Devon knew what was _really_ going on, why I was there and how I planned to fix it, he wouldn't be so happy to include the entire town of Gunnison.

Or maybe he still would. I didn't know what that fucking guy was thinking half the time.

In my heart of hearts I knew he was trying to relieve the tension. It was his shtick, what he always did. I was too worried to let it work, to allow his behavior to relax me.

I would apologize, later. When we were alive.

_If there is a later._

"Agents, what am I looking at?" Ray called, standing several yards away.

We met up with him and crouched low to the ground, trying to see what he saw. In the dark it was easy to spot. Even dulled with time it stood out a mile.

Fluorescent green blood.

My hair stood on end and I shed all pretenses. Standing up straight, I swept the entire area, looking for more of the blood until I spotted it on a bush—a pinprick beacon against the black-green of the forest.

"What is it?" Ray asked somewhere behind me, following along. I found I didn't care anymore.

"Um. Leakage, from one of the. . .packages. An animal must have gotten into something and took off with it." If Devon was one thing, it was quick with the covers.

None of that would matter if we followed the trail and found what we were looking for at the end. If he saw the predator, there wasn't going to be any kind of cover that would explain away the presence of a real alien.

"We can handle this. You look for your missing citizens," I demanded. It was safer if they were close to me, but I didn't want Ray to see what we were really after.

Devon nodded and pulled Ray away. "Shout if you need us."

"I told you to stay with me, Devon," I said, standing straight. Somehow I managed to keep my expression under control.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. One of us needs to stay with Ray, anyway."

"I don't need a babysitter, agents," Ray frowned. We elected to ignore him.

Once again I was pulling my partner aside and leaving an irritated Ray on his own. "This is why I didn't want to bring him along. He's not safe here and we can't let him follow us around like a stray dog or something."

He waved his hand errantly by his head. "Yeah but you said that the xenomorphs aren't out here, right? So we're okay."

"That's not—they might be hiding or there could be stragglers!"

_Just tell him._

"If it's just one or two stragglers we should be okay, right? They'd be injured, left behind by the others. We can handle a couple injured ones," he argued. "I know they're pretty vicious, I see that now, from the pilots, but we're ready for them."

My mouth bobbed up and down as I tried to find the words that would make him stay. But we couldn't bring Ray, and he couldn't be left alone. And above all else, I couldn't tell Devon about Wolf.

Not yet.

It was my precious secret, one I couldn't bring myself to give away. I'd ferreted it all these years, clung to it, and I didn't want to share now. How could I explain, anyway?

Defeated, I lowered my gaze and huffed. "Fine, whatever."

Devon grinned and gave me a squeeze. "You'll be fine. There's nothing out here that can hurt you anymore. But still, shout if you need me."

I nodded and, when he was out earshot, muttered, "I'll just follow your screams."

"Wait, is it really okay to leave her?" Ray asked, glancing over his shoulder as Devon pulled him away from me.

"Trust me. . . ."

Their voices faded as we drifted apart. I watched the spot they'd disappeared for a moment before turning to my own task at hand. The green droplets increased in frequency and amount of blood present as I traveled. Despite the feeling of jelly in my legs and dull throb from when I'd kicked the door, I convinced myself to move faster.

"Where are you? Give me something, anything," I muttered, sweeping my light frenetically across the ground and up in the trees.

Several feet to my left I spotted the spatter of vivid green across a tree trunk. I stumbled over a rock in my path in my haste to move toward it, but kept my footing and steeled myself against the pain. Wading through the bushes, I stopped close to the tree when my shoes hit something solid.

The world came to a stop. I kept my eyes on the tree in front of me, spotting patterns in the spray where there were none. My shoulders rose and fell rhythmically with each laboured breath.

My pulse roared in my ears as I lowered my gaze from the blood to the mass at my feet.

Already I could see it in my periphery. The concentration of blood, the familiar contour of muscles drawn over a chiseled body. . . .

I dropped my eyes the rest of the way before I could convince myself not to. My lungs ceased all function and I had to catch myself from sinking to my knees; there was no way I would be able to stand again if I let myself fall.

A bloodied hole gaped at me from the predator's chest, splintered ribcage jagged and protruding. It promised to swallow me whole if I stared into it for too long.

Mask gone, his mandibles were spread and mouth open. A permanent roar of pain and rage.

Captured by humans, strapped down and stripped of his gear and dignity.

Humiliated, abandoned by his peers and left on a planet in the hands of the enemy. Relying on one puny human girl.

All ending in a death devoid of any honor.

And I'd been helpless to do anything about it.

There was no way he stood any chance. The xenos would have shaken the sedative faster, regained their strength quicker. The crew would have taken his mask, replaced it with a hospital-grade plastic one.

The drones that survived the crash would have freed the facehuggers. They carry them, like the scientists said. I didn't know how many they'd taken or how many survived the crash.

Inside my chest, my heart constricted and I clutched the front of my jacket, teeth grinding—a barrier to prevent the lament I wished to release. I took an unsteady step back and hauled in deep breaths to keep the angry tears at bay.

I'd waffled too much. Spent too much time thinking. I'd wasted a whole day reading about the predators. Maybe I learned much, but at what cost?

He was dead. Nothing I learned would change that.

Still, I couldn't hold it all together. I snarled through my teeth and turned, reaching out to grab the branches of a nearby pine, shaking the limb until it pulled free of the trunk, my bag thumping against my hip. I tossed the branch as far as I could throw it, stumbling when my knees threatened to buckle.

It was the only tantrum I would allow myself. I inhaled as many times as it took to calm down, and then whirled toward the body, senses on high alert.

_I heard it, I know I did._

As if standing still would make me hear better, I didn't dare move a muscle. My ears strained, taking in any sound in the area.

Was it Devon and Ray? The sound of their footsteps or idle conversation drawn by the wind?

No. . .no it couldn't have been.

Then it came again, low and quiet. A sound that plucked at my heartstrings and made my spirit soar. It was familiar and comforting in a way I never thought possible.

The rattle of a curious predator.

My feet carried me back to the corpse, hope swelling in my chest—was he really alive? Could he have somehow survived the birth of a xenomorph? I hadn't thought it possible that anything could endure such physical trauma, but if anyone could, it was this species.

But when I reached him—though I hadn't gone far—he was still and quiet. I lowered myself into a crouch and pressed my fingers onto his arm.

Cold.

So then what. . . ?

Electricity crackled, standing my hairs on end and tingling my skin. I scrambled back onto my feet and took a step back, mouth open in unabashed surprise.

His tall, thick form melted into visibility and my heart skipped a beat. He tilted his head to the side, crackling a question. I chewed on the inside of my lip and pressed my bag close to my side, until the computer in it poked into my hipbone.

He looked at his wrist, reading a display. I let saliva pool in my mouth then swallowed it, coating my throat so that I could speak.

"Wolf?" I asked tentatively.

The word had him lifting his head. It had to be. The mask, the color of his skin against the dark night. . . . My heart exploded into life, pounding against my rib cage as if trying to free itself.

A dead person's voice echoed between the distance, choking me anew with emotions.

_"Nichole."_


	13. Realign

**Hello, readers!**

**Sorry for the wait on this one! Please let me know what you think of this reunion, if you feel it's missing something or needs a little more oomph. I tried not to rush it, but there is a small timeframe to work with. . . . Also, sorry for the delay again haha. Work wanted to squeeze what they could out of me before my vacation. **

**Before we go on to the story, I've decided that I want to compile a collection of one-shots based around Phantasm and Nightmare. These will likely be in third person POV, so they can be about anything! Request via review or PM and I'll see what I can do. :) Depending on the number of requests I get, I can't promise I'll be able to write them all but I'll try. Just let me know what you think! **

**And let me know if you have any title ideas for such a compilation haha. They will all go into one story to keep me from having a million billion of them out there haha. Thanks in advance!**

**~ Crayola**

* * *

Chapter Twelve

Realign

The darkness obscuring his body made him as intimidating as I remembered. Leaves rustled as he shifted his weight, considering something. He made idle clicking sounds as he was prone to, standing feet away with his shoulders squared and fingers flexing.

I stared in disbelief, my lips parted and unblinking; if I did, maybe he would disappear. Wolf stared back, then cocked his head to the side. Though I remembered I was the one who had called him, I couldn't believe he was there. Even after rehearsing the reunion for months—years even—I couldn't remember anything I wanted to say.

"You came," I finally managed. My voice was a shade above a whisper.

He inclined his head and my arms ached, my fingers itched. They rose partially and my legs tensed to carry me to him, but I held myself still. I wanted to touch him, to feel the texture of his skin and ensure he was there.

We stood feet apart and a low rumble started in his chest. He waited for another brief second, then walked toward me. I went rigid, suddenly unsure how I should act around him. What to ask him, what to talk about. Small talk didn't seem right, and I still wasn't any closer to understanding his language than when I first met him.

When he was within arm's reach, he put his hand on my shoulder and gave me a shake. My brain rattled in my skull, but I still managed to return the gesture, albeit with less vigor. It was like trying to shake a tree trunk.

Dipping his head, Wolf growled a greeting, distorted by his mask. I was too caught up in the moment to try and decipher the syllables.

"Nice to see you, too," I muttered, unable to keep a smile from tugging at the corner of my lips. I wiped it away and turned to the body, wondering if he'd seen it yet. The corpse was likely the same temperature as everything else around us, so I guessed Wolf might not be able to.

"I wish it was on better terms, though." I made a sweeping gesture toward the body.

For a second he stared at it, then leaned back in what could have been surprise. He chittered something and turned his head with a sharp movement toward me.

Guilt gnawed at my insides and I averted my gaze. "He was captured during his hunt."

For a moment Wolf was silent, then he snorted an admonition and approached the body himself, shoulders squared. Though it made me feel sad for the fallen warrior, I had expected such a reaction. No doubt his failure, his capture, was something to be shamed over.

_Seems so cruel. _

Maybe if I'd been successful in his rescue, if Dixon hadn't usurped my attempts, he could have helped me kill the xenos and the queen. Maybe that would have been enough to redeem some of his lost honor. The world would never know, now.

"I was going to help him, but there was a lot of opposition," I explained, hoping being succinct wouldn't translate to me being a complete failure.

There was also no easy way to explain my exact involvement.

I remained standing while Wolf kneeled by the body. He reached out uninhibited and examined the hole in its chest. A grimace contorted my lips as he stared, poking and prodding. Wolf made a surprised sound and turned his gaze sharply in my direction.

"That's why I called you," I said, tone grave. "Those things are out here, they're loose. They're from the same nest you and I met in."

He considered that with a strange sound and watched me closely.

When I did or said nothing else, he prompted me with an irritated question.

Shrugging, I elaborated. "They were being experimented on, studied. We didn't kill them all back then so some were captured. They've been under heavy surveillance, and today they attempted to move them. Well. . .you can see how that worked out."

Wolf grumbled deep in his chest and motioned toward his mask, then the predator's face. He did the same thing for the rest of his armor and his weapons.

"His stuff? Probably at the crash, I'll show you. What should we do with him, though?" I asked.

His answer was another dismissive snort and pantomimed for me to lead him into the woods. To the crash, no doubt. He would want to get back all of the predator's gear. Technology we'd stolen. I wasn't sure if I wanted to, though, not until I knew where Devon and Ray were.

I guess we weren't going to do anything with the body. Yet.

"It's possible there are two other vics out here—victims. They could be infected. Can you find them?" I was hoping to stall.

He turned to the dark trees and scanned it, then shook his head, growled, and squared up.

Stalling wasn't happening. He wanted that tech back _now._

"Alright, alright. This way," I muttered, ignoring the cajoling ticking sound he was making. I just hoped Devon and the deputy were still looking for Buddy and Sam.

*:･ﾟ✧

Where I could get away with keeping information from Devon, I knew I wouldn't be able to withhold Devon's existence from Wolf. Not if I didn't want him killing my partner or Ray in a fit of surprise, thinking them a threat.

But I wasn't sure how to tell him. The direct approach seemed best, so all I had to do was work up the nerve.

The crash was coming up and he hadn't cloaked. If either of the two men were around, they would be able to spot him without issue. Devon wasn't normally the shoot-first-ask-later type, but wouldn't show such restraint if he thought I—or anyone else—was in danger.

Though intimidating, I didn't think Wolf would do anything that could be misconstrued as dangerous to my health, but Devon knew what he was.

What his kind did.

_I should have told him, should have told him,_ I berated myself, trying to keep my mind on maneuvering through the bushes and around rocks. _Should have just told him, "hey I've got this real big scary guy coming from outer space to help out, so don't shoot him, okay?" _

_Stupid, stupid._

Wolf had to know. I had to tell him.

"Hey," I started, stopping next to a fallen tree to face him. The crash was on the other side, a wing buried in the ground by our feet. "Listen, there's—"

He lifted his fist to silence me and strafed around the tree, following the wing to the body.

"No, dammit!" I insisted, glowering at his back. "I need to tell you I'm not alone up here!"

His sharp snarl took me aback and I pressed my lips together, huffing. He took my shoulder and steered me toward the crashed plane. I'd forgotten how fond he was of manhandling me. He chattered a demanding question, head cocked. The piercing gaze of his mask cut through me.

"Yes, fine, we'll get your damn stuff. Let go of me!" I shrugged free of his grasp and moved ahead to pull open the cargo door, then motioned inside. "After you, _your majesty_."

Snorting, he swaggered up the ramp and into the darkness, making me roll my eyes. I followed him anyway, shutting the door behind us to avoid unwanted visitors; human, alien, and animal alike. It was the last thing we needed.

I stood by as he rooted around. After a moment I remembered myself and joined him. I was no longer a teenager, lost and going along for the ride. It was all too easy to fall back into our old roles.

This time, though, I was an equal.

This time, I could help.

"The xenos were kept here," I explained, footsteps echoing in the steel plane. "I mean, the black things, the bugs. Then the small ones, the facehuggers, were held in here."

Wolf followed me to the clear glass tubes and the half-melted crates, crackling and grumbling to himself. He gathered samples of some liquids pooled by the facehugger canisters and then lifted the heavy crate off the crushed xenomorph with little effort. It crashed to the side and I winced at the noise.

"Meat head," I muttered under my breath, exhaling sharply.

If he heard me, he ignored the taunt and kneeled by the crushed corpse, sunk part way through the hull. He pulled out his medical box and an empty vial, filling it with acidic blood, potency diluted with age. He set it down, then pulled out the samples of liquid.

There were better things for me to do than watch him work. I left him to his task and tried to find the missing technology. There were many other crates to sift through, most of which had piles of papers or hard drives: copies of all the information the labs had on the xenos and the predators. Or maybe the originals, I couldn't tell.

Still, I doubted they left the tech at the Bureau, not when Weyland was all about that nerd kind of shit. They would have wanted it, to study it and replicate it.

So it was there somewhere.

Eventually Wolf joined me in the hunt, prying bolted lids from crates I couldn't touch and dumping the contents in a clatter of noise. I shot him a glare each time, but had to remind myself that he had no reason to keep quiet. The only reason why it upset me was because it could draw Devon and Ray back to us.

If the noises were even audible outside the plane. There was a good chance it only seemed loud because of the tight quarters and my piqued senses.

"Here, this one," I called, standing near the cockpit by a big metal crate locked down tight. I stepped aside when he approached and went straight to work, ripping the lid off. Stray bolts rattled to the ground. I shook my head and marveled, "How do you do shit like that?"

His shoulders shook in amusement and he kicked the crate over, spilling the packing peanuts all over. Something heavy and shiny clunked out, covered in the stuff.

After sharing a look, both of us crouched and sifted through the Styrofoam. Wolf picked up the fallen item, and I pulled out a small disk the size of my palm, embossed with deep, intricate seams. I held it up to him and cracked a grin. "Bingo."

He took it from me and examined it, holding a thing I didn't recognize in his other hand.

"What is it?"

Blades the length of my forearm extended from the disks with a vicious sound, starling me. I twitched and my hand went to the gun at my hip, but I relaxed and glared at him. "A little warning next time, maybe?"

Still, I was amazed that such a small thing held such large, deadly blades. They fanned from the center of the disk, curved and serrated like some sort of bladed Frisbee.

Again he did his version of a chuckle and retracted the blades, tucking the weapons away before digging through the rest of the gear. I eyed each piece curiously, though he didn't grab much after the bladed disks.

"Am I going to have to beg and plead for a weapon this time?" I asked, feeling cheeky.

To my surprise, he stood and handed over the familiar blade without a fuss. I blinked at him and reached out to take it, easily compensating for the weight. It was just as I remembered, curved just so, balanced to perfection and sharp enough to split a hair. My fingers tightened around the like-leather hilt, nostalgia tightening my throat.

"Is it the same one?" I whispered.

Wolf nodded, the movement caught from the corner of my eyes. I ran my hand along the flat of the blade and a tremor chased down my spine. It was so familiar, so comforting, and it took the edge off my unease.

After all this time, he still had it.

The scar on my back throbbed as I remembered the first time I drove the blade into a xenomorph, opening up a wound that spilled acid all over me.

Using it to fight for my very survival.

Swallowing hard, I pushed back latent fear and suppressed the bile threatening to bubble to the surface. I'd done it, I'd killed it and survived. I'd made my _first kill_ and Wolf had spent all that time teaching me how to use it the right way, accepting me as one of him.

Now it was time to prove I was still worth it.

The corner of my lips twitched into a morose sneer. It had served me well back then, traumatizing situation or not. Wolf handed me the strap that belonged to it and showed me how it fit, how to draw the weapon and put it away against my back.

How it functioned was pleasantly simple—magnetized enough to hold it in place and forcing me to use a good portion of my strength to pull it free.

I'd get used to it.

Wolf decked himself out with the rest of the tech, including the predator's shoulder-mounted cannon, giving himself one for each shoulder. He offered me the spear, but I hadn't the slightest idea how to use it so he left it behind.

"What are you going to do with the rest?" I asked.

He motioned to my bag, said something incomprehensible, and showed me the predator's confiscated wrist computer. He popped it open and punched in an intricate command. More of the hash-mark-shaped runes appeared, flashed a couple times, then the machine started to beep.

The marks changed rapidly as the hoarse beeps droned on in an alarming rhythm.

"Is that. . . ?"

Before I could finish the question he urged me toward the cargo door with an firmness that stopped me from arguing. I tried to rush ahead of him to pull open the latch and free us, but Wolf didn't slow his roll; he bull-rushed right through the door and slammed it off its hinges.

I stopped just outside, standing atop the bashed-out door, and gestured wildly at it. "Oh come on! Are you fucking serious?"

Patience was not one of his strong suits. He doubled back while I fumed over how easy it was for him to throw around his weight, then heaved me off my feet with a sharp sound. I squawked indignantly and he set me back down at the bottom of the ramp before running off into the woods. I knew then it was something serious, so I hoofed it after him.

Every time I thought he would stop, he would keep going and I'd have to force myself to move after him. We made it a little more than football field's length away when I heard the first concussion. I stopped, surprised, and turned around in time to see the forest sink inward toward the crash.

"What the fuck?"

Wolf growled and yanked me backwards several more feet, but I was stuck watching the implosion, eyes wide and mouth agape.

In seconds it was over. There was a gap in the trees and the crash was gone, swallowed by an electrical light and punctuated by a sizzle and a pop. There was little sound beside the settle of the trees just outside the radius, and raucous call of angry birds.

My heart thudded against my ribcage and I freed myself from Wolf's grip, staggering toward the site. Stomach twisting, I stumbled toward the site and stood at the edge of the disaster. Everything was _gone_. The gap in the woods was almost a perfect circle, its diameter an Olympic swimming pool. There was no charring of wood, no sign of what might have happened.

The tree I stood next to was missing its front-facing half. Leaves fluttered before my face, some halves and some wholes. Feet away, a rock tumbled through the dirt and stopped at the bottom.

_Devon_.

"What—how? Was—Wolf was anyone around?" I demanded, turning on him.

When I looked back to gauge his answer, he merely stood there. However, he was chittering what I understood to be the equivalent of "I don't know."

Right. How could he know? He'd been inside the plane when he'd set it, then ran for his life.

Eyes burning, I tried to swallow the lump in my throat but it stuck in my chest, knotting there painfully. I told myself that they were out in the woods, still searching for dead bodies. They had no reason to return the crash until they found them.

He hadn't been caught in the bomb. He couldn't have been.

Devon wouldn't die in such a stupid way.

_He's fine._

Wolf wrapped his fingers around my upper arm and growled, a non-threatening sound. I nodded and chewed on my bottom lip before asking, "What was the point of that?"

An unfamiliar voice played from his mask. _"Hide!"_ the person shouted. I couldn't imagine under what circumstances he would have witnessed someone shout that, but I had to imagine it was toward a civilian caught up in one of his hunts or something.

For human trophies. I knew I should be outraged but I only found apathy. What did I care? He hadn't ever killed anyone I knew—on purpose, anyway.

_No, he's fine. Out making alien jokes with Ray somewhere. Being obnoxious as always._

I was finding it harder and harder to convince myself of it.

Forcing myself back to the present, I tried to decipher what he meant by "hide". It wasn't hard to figure out the implication, though—he didn't want humans to have any sort of knowledge about his kind or the xenomorphs. It had been the same thing on that ship where this had all started.

Too bad it was too late for that. Would he try to track down my bureau and blow that up, too? I wasn't going to remind him: less work for the both of us.

They'd do their best to keep the knowledge from the public, anyway.

"So I guess we better go find those bodies," I sighed.

Nodding, he led us back the way we'd come, tracking our steps easily back to the fallen predator. We had to skirt the spanning valley he'd created. My legs were killing me after the run, making limping through the woods a task, but I managed without complaint.

When Wolf noticed, he stopped us and asked about my gait in his surly way.

"Remember? You broke my legs, jackass. I'm fine, just keep walking," I grumbled.

Once we reached the corpse, Wolf removed a large vial of blue liquid from one of his pouches. It kind of reminded me of the syrup containers from iHop.

He drizzled some of it over the length of the predator's body and stepped back. I was already standing a small distance away, but I still removed myself further when the corpse dissolved away like wet cotton candy. Wolf put away the vial and turned to me.

"You got all kinds of new fucking toys, don't you?" I muttered, staring at the spot the body used to be, actually feeling a little sorry.

The guy wouldn't even get a proper send off.

This race was harsh.

Instead of giving me second thoughts, it filled me with determination. I was going to make sure I didn't fuck up like that. I would work harder to keep myself in good standing with him.

No way was I going to be tossed aside like the predator I'd failed.

It made me wonder, though—had I succeeded in freeing him and returning him to his kind, would they have even accepted him? Would they have given him a chance to redeem himself or cast him aside like yesterday's news? Bringing home a new slew of xeno trophies might have helped, and the guilt gnawed at my insides.

For now, I tried to push the thought aside. I would have to remember to ask Wolf about it later, when we could communicate better.

"There were two civilians caught up, a boy and a man. I don't know where they are, and there are also the crew of the ship to worry about. I don't know if they survived the crash or were dragged off by the xenomorphs," I reported, taking out the picture of Sam and Buddy to hand it to him.

Wolf took it out of reflex and looked down at it, then turned his head back to me and cocked it to the side, chiding me with a grating sound.

Grimacing, I snatched the paper back and dropped my gaze. "Right, sorry, forgot."

Infrared doesn't work with pictures.

When I opened my mouth to continue with the briefing, a sound pierced the otherwise quiet night. I recognized it immediately as the static-filled sound of a radio crackling to life. My spirit soared at the same time my heart plummeted.

_Devon!_

_ Oh shit, _Devon_._

My companion snarled and disappeared into thin air. I heard him take off toward the noise and my legs moved before my body was ready. "Wolf no!" The last end of my shout turned into a strained grunt as my knees buckled, no longer able to handle the sudden jerk. The pain it elicited from my spent limbs sent me to the ground. I braced my fall with my hands, jarring my wrists.

"_Don't shoot_!" I managed to demand, voice heavy from the hurt throbbing in my legs. It was a command meant for everyone who could hear, but it seemed someone had taken off running—their footsteps created a cacophony of crunching dry leaves and snagging branches.

_Find Devon._

Somehow I managed to stand and limped in the direction Wolf had taken off, teeth grinding. I didn't get far before a shadow intercepted me, familiar hands holding me at the shoulders. "Woah there, you don't look so good."

Once again my knees almost refused to hold me up and I sank against Devon, eyes closed and breath releasing in a gush of air.

He stood there, stunned, as I squeezed him tight. After a second he gathered himself and pulled me upright so he could look me in the face. "Everything okay? Was that one of the predators with you? Did he hurt you?"

I ignored all of his questions and gave him a quick examination, turning and twisting him and patting him down. "You're okay! You're alive!"

"Didn't you know? I'm immortal. But for argument's sake, why would I be dead?"

_Oh you know, just an implosion bomb._

"Never mind," I deflected, looking over his shoulder and ignoring the heat radiating from my face. "Where's Ray?"

Devon motioned behind him and shook his head. "Son of a bitch took off running. I told him not to, but you know I'm sure it's pretty terrifying having a big alien turn invisible while it's chasing you. Poor sap, I almost went after him but you fell, so I came to help you instead."

"Then he's dead," I said.

"Or as good as."

Shaking my head, I punched him in the shoulder. He jumped and rubbed the spot, saying, "Ow! What the hell? What did I do?"

"I told you to send him back to town!"

He glowered and readjusted his jacket. "I didn't think a predator would show up and—wait. Did you know? What were you two—?"

"Let's go," I said before he could finish, pulling him after me.

"_Toward_ the big murder alien?" he said, ignoring my deflection.

"Yes," I deadpanned.

"Well could ya at least let me know why you were hanging out with—"

Suddenly, Devon was wrenched from my grasp, the tail end of his sentence cut off with a harsh choking sound. I whirled around just as Wolf reappeared, holding my partner up by his throat high enough that his toes didn't even brush the ground.

I threw my weight onto his arm before I could think better of it, one hand held out to keep Wolf's wrist blades at bay. "Wolf! Wolf put him down! Put him down _now!"_

Devon clawed at the fingers around him, mouth gaping.

"Wolf!" I screeched_. "Put him down_! He's with me!"

The two of us had a stare down, but my will proved stronger and he did as I requested, letting Devon crash to the ground. My partner sucked in a deep breath and coughed several times, rubbing his neck. I kneeled by his side, one hand at his back.

The sound of Wolf's blades retracting drew my attention and I stood to face him, leaving Devon to recover. "I told you I wasn't alone up here."

"Nichole?" Devon rasped.

Ignoring him, I continued. "Devon is my partner, he's here to help get rid of the bugs, too. He's on our side!"

He looked between the two of us, then stared at Devon for a long time before huffing. He rambled for a few seconds, all snarls and angry growls. I rolled my eyes but took the abuse, my arms folded across my chest.

"Yeah yeah, be angry with me later. He stays."

Wolf chittered and took an intimidated step toward me. I glared and took a defensive stance, hand raised to draw my blade.

At last Devon managed to stand and stepped behind me. I pressed my other arm against his chest to shield him against Wolf. He finished his coughing fits and eyed the alien man up and down. "This guy a friend of yours, Nichole?" he asked.

Both Wolf and I stood down, but I kept my arm up to keep Devon safe.

Though Devon's question was rhetorical, I went through introductions nonetheless. "Devon, this is Wolf. At least that's what I call him. His real name's hard to pronounce. Wolf, this is Devon."

Wolf didn't relax from his hostile posture—shoulders squared and chest puffed out—and Devon didn't move, either. His entire body was rigid, jawline popping. I looked between the two, crushed by the tension. I wasn't expecting them to get along, but I wasn't ready for the murderous intent between the two.

Devon I could trust, but I had a sneaking suspicion I'd have to be vigilant and keep Wolf from killing my partner.

"So this is the guy, I take it?" Devon guessed.

I nodded. "Yes."

"And he's the 'backup' you called? The reason why you wanted me to keep Ray away?"

"Yeah."

He shifted next to me, but I didn't take my eyes off Wolf. He had started staring at me, crackling in a curious manner. Devon said, "And how did you manage that?"

My first reflex was to take out the computer and show him, but I thought better of it and told him about it instead, patting my bag. I didn't go into much detail besides how Wolf had given it to me before we'd parted so I could contact him if need be.

"And you kept that thing all these years?" he marveled, somehow sounding hurt enough that I turned my attention away from Wolf.

His stung expression took me by surprise me and I opened my mouth to say something, but could think of nothing. What did he have to feel betrayed about? I shook my head a little and finally managed to speak. "I mean, yeah. I thought I might. . .need his help with the xenomorphs."

Wolf growled impatiently and I took a deep breath. "Right. We have to go. The longer we sit and dawdle the more those things get settled. Did you find Buddy and Sam or the crew?"

Devon stared at me a moment longer, then pointed. "Yeah. Ray and I were coming to find you to let you know. The crew is missing completely. Probably buried in the rubble or something. Sam and Buddy are dead, but they ran pretty far from the crash."

If the crew was buried, they were all gone now thanks to Wolf. I asked, "Cause of death?"

"They were impregnated."

Grimacing, I motioned for him to start walking. "Take us to them."

"Why?" Devon asked, his voice sharp.

It was Wolf who answered, his patience spent. He snarled and reached around me to shove Devon in the direction he'd indicated, making him stumble.

"Wolf," I warned.

"What's his problem?" Devon grumbled, rubbing his shoulder.

He pointed a claw at Devon and chittered quickly. When I didn't understand, he gestured to himself, then to me, and finally at Devon who earned a disdainful chuff. I frowned while attempting to extrapolate what he was telling me. Wolf indicated in the same order again, and realization dawned on me with the third run-through.

"Oh. Um, he just explained the hierarchy. He's in charge and you're below me, so he won't tolerate any insubordination from you."

Devon scoffed. "Is that all?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

I pulled Devon aside, though I knew it was pointless: Wolf would be able to hear us anyway. It still made me feel better somehow. "I know this is weird for you, but please try not to make him angry. I can't guarantee he won't kill you, but I'll try my best. I mean, he helped me a lot back then so I know he's a reasonable guy, okay?"

"Nichole," Devon intoned, looking over my shoulder at Wolf. I followed his gaze; Wolf was flexing his fists and I knew we were pushing it. "Why did you call him? We can handle this on our own."

"No, no I don't think so," I argued, scratching my brow. "It's just the two of us and he'll be able to track then ten times easier than we would. So please, please can you try to make this work? Just for a little bit, please? For me?"

We locked eyes for a brief spell until he exhaled and looked down in annoyance. "Fine. I'll try. Just keep him from murdering me, okay?"

"I'll do my best."

Wolf grabbed my shoulder and I jumped, having not realized he'd come up on us like that. He kept the pressure hard enough to know he was done waiting. I nodded and motioned at Devon. "Alright, lead us to the bodies."

Devon rolled his eyes and muttered incoherently to himself, but headed out anyway.

"Will you at least try to be kind of nice?" to Wolf I requested.

He grunted and said, in careful English, "No."


	14. Under Your Skin

**Hello, readers!**

**Here's the next installation! Don't have much to say, just let me know what you think. :) Love hearing from y'all! **

**~ Crayola**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

Under Your Skin

Before we left, Wolf grabbed Ray's body and dragged it after us. When I asked, he answered in the only way he could. I didn't understand a word of it so I dropped the subject.

Devon walked ahead of us, foiling all of my attempts to travel astride him. After the third or fourth time he sped up to avoid me—an easy feat when my legs refused to work as intended—I picked up the hint and stopped trying.

_Let him be salty. He'll get over it._

Wolf grabbed my attention with a low trill and indicated my legs. I'd been trying to hide my limp, but I couldn't keep anything from his sharp eyes.

"Yeah, remember?" I grumbled. "You broke my legs."

His response was an affronted rattle.

"Yeah, well, I'm blaming _you_," I retorted.

Once again he gestured toward my limbs, one in particular. I shrugged at him and he stopped me, tracing his claw across my thigh horizontally. At first I didn't understand, then I remembered all the things that his mask was capable of and started walking again.

"It's a plate, to help my leg. That _you_ broke."

Snorting derisively, he gave me his version of a gentle shove in the back. I overcompensated with a large step and the leg almost buckled under my weight, but I managed to stay up and shot him a glare. "It's true! You should have caught me!"

He shook himself and chattered nonsense at me, likely a bunch of excuses as to why it wasn't his fault. I rolled my eyes at him and turned to find Devon staring at us, face expressionless in the dark. We watched each other for a moment, and just as I opened my mouth to say something, he spun on his heel and led us onward.

Frowning, I struggled to catch up to him, this time grabbing the back of his shirt before he could power-walk out of my reach.

"_What_?" he snapped.

Taken aback, I stared at him with my mouth open. I'd seen Devon angry before, but never at _me. _Never because of something _I_ did. I hadn't thought it possible.

His expression didn't soften, but when he repeated his question it had less bite. "What?"

Wolf growled and I set us back to walking. "Talk to me, Devon. You're sulking like a little kid," I said, though I knew what was upsetting him. I wanted _him_ to say it before I tried to make things right. After all, I could have been wrong.

But, I wasn't.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"About Wolf?"

"No, that the Easter Bunny wasn't real. Yes, about the alien!"

The sarcasm was a step in the right direction and I took a bit of comfort in his familiar snark. "Um, because I work for a government agency actively attempting to capture his kind?"

If Wolf heard, he didn't make it apparent.

"You could have told me. I wouldn't have breathed a word of it," Devon said, unsuccessful in his attempts to keep the hurt from his voice. He still wouldn't look at me, and as close as I was I could see the tension in his jaw.

Sighing, I put a hand on his shoulder. He let it sit there. "I didn't _want_ to tell you. I didn't want you know that—"

He interrupted. "That you were a double agent?"

"You have to be giving someone information to be a double agent."

"So you were a sleeper cell, same thing."

I hummed and bobbed my head from side to side. "I mean, I guess you could say that. Technically I guess I might have been a sort of double agent. . . . I was trying to wipe all of our captured xenomorphs off the face of the planet."

That was enough to turn his head, an eyebrow raised. "Really? So then burning the queen?"

"It was bound to happen at some point. I just wish I'd done it sooner. Maybe we wouldn't be in this mess," I muttered.

A heavy hand grabbed my shoulder and Wolf was at my side, chittering and growling a question. He pulled up a hologram of a xenomorph queen on his personal wrist computer, then asked another question of the same variety.

Without understanding I already knew what he was asking. "Yeah, we had a queen and an entire nest. They tried to move them to a different part of the country and then this happened."

Wolf growled a word I could barely make out.

"Um, I killed the queen. It's just whatever xenos—"

He cut me off with a chuff and corrected my vocabulary. _"Kiande amedha."_

"Okay. . .it's just whatever _key-andy a-med-ha_ survived the crash or were born," I repeated, rolling my eyes. I supposed I'd have to learn the words eventually, so I stressed the syllables in a real attempt. Wolf grumbled at my pronunciation but otherwise seemed satisfied.

Again, he presented the green, holographic queen.

"I told you, I killed it. I don't have any proof, though. It's all back at the facility and is burned to a crisp. Sorry," I added in afterthought.

The predator fell back again, making contemplative clicking noises.

"How can he understand us?" Devon asked, glancing back at Wolf.

"The mask," I said. "I assume it has a translator. Either that or he just knows English."

Devon made a similar grumbling noise to Wolf and I let him move ahead of me, my arm dropping to my side. He didn't bring up anything more about my traitorous ways, and Wolf didn't question me any further about the queen or my involvement with the government. I was stuck between the two of them, frustrated and tired.

After several minutes of walking in silence, Devon inclined his head toward me. "You should have told me sooner. Tonight, at least. We could have saved Ray."

"I know," I sighed.

He studied me for a moment, then looked back at Wolf who was still lugging around Ray's dead body. Devon grimaced, then put his hands in the air. "Well those two are around here somewhere. It's dark so I'm not entirely sure where."

I turned expectantly to Wolf and he let go of Ray's leg. He scanned the area, kneeled and examined some dirt, then headed past me and slammed into Devon as he walked by. My partner stumbled and sent off a slew of choice profanities in Wolf's direction, but followed after him. I matched his pace the best I could.

"Sorry about him," I said, chagrined.

However, he ignored my apology. "He's just gonna leave Ray there? What's he doing with the body, anyway?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," I shrugged.

"I doubt that," Devon grunted.

Glancing back where Wolf had left the corpse, I said, "He might want to harvest him as a trophy? Though I doubt that. What else did the packets say? They um. . .they skin their kills? Maybe he's gonna do that. I don't know I've only met the guy once."

Devon glowered. "Seem like you guys are long-time friends to me."

"Don't be jealous, it doesn't look good on you," I tried teasing, elbowing him in the arm.

His response was a non-committal grunt. I pursed my lips into a line and looked down at my feet. Devon was usually the one who lightened the mood, trying to make me feel better. I hadn't the first clue on how to do it.

Wolf caught our attention with a sharp sound. I limped over to him as fast as my legs would allow, then stopped short and put a hand to my mouth.

I'd seen a lot of shit. A lot of open chests, a lot of tormented faces, a lot of blood. I'd seen my classmates shot and my best friend died in my arms. But the sight of little Sam, no older than eleven or twelve, laying there with most of his chest missing, eyes staring without seeing into the woods. . .it hit me harder than I thought it would have.

The boy was small in his picture. . .he looked even smaller broken.

I cleared my throat and fought to keep my emotions in check. I wasn't even sure where it came from. With how much I'd been through I should have been okay. But all I could think about was my brother, Alan. When I looked at Sam, it was my brother I saw on the ground. He wasn't even that young anymore, practically an adult in his own right.

But thinking of Alan, face covered with one of those spider parasites. . . .

While I was caught up with my own thoughts, Wolf dumped more of that blue liquid on the father and son and they melted away into nothing. He turned without further concern and headed back the way we had come.

Right. Emotionless and hard. That's what it took to be him. Honor and glory above all. Though I didn't know how much honor or glory was to be had in chasing down Ray while he was running.

"You alright?" Devon asked, dropping his sour façade for the moment.

"Fine," I lied, heading after Wolf. My eyes were hot with unshed tears and I wanted more than anything to sit down for the rest of the night. "Just didn't really. . .expect to see a dead kid when we set out on this mission."

He sighed. "I know what you mean. Kinda cold to just. . .dissolve the bodies like that. Your friend seems like a winner."

"Different culture," I replied crisply. "And he doesn't want to leave evidence."

"I guess. Someone's gotta cover this shit up I guess. Still. . .what are we going to tell the wife? We don't have any bodies to identify and your friend destroyed them before we could pick up any jewelry or identification."

Shrugging, I said, "Just tell them we couldn't find anything."

"What are we going to tell them about Ray?"

That I had no answer for. If we showed up back in town without him, there would be so many questions. As I stared at Wolf's back, though, a thought occurred to me and I rolled my eyes at my own stupidity.

"Wait, none of that matters. We won't have to tell anyone anything!"

"What do you mean?"

I waved my hand in Wolf's direction. "We're gonna be with him, slinking around the shadows and tracking down xenos. We'll disappear right alongside Ray. They'll never know what happened unless they catch us with Wolf."

Devon studied Wolf's muscular form for a moment, mouth twisted into an incredulous grimace. "What about the citizens? Shouldn't we tell them what's going on and evacuate them?"

Wolf growled, as if he thought it was a bad idea.

"We can take care of it. We'll find where they're nesting and kill them there, then Wolf can find those that are infected and deal with it."

"By killing them."

"Well—"

He shook his head and said, "No, that's exactly what's going to happen. We can help these people. Gestation is how long? A few hours? That's plenty of time to get them somewhere via helicopter and try to extract the parasite."

"Like, through surgery? You heard the doctor, they attach to an artery in your chest," I reminded him. "How could you remove something like that?"

"People do delicate surgeries on _brains_ and remove tumors from spines and shit. It couldn't be _that_ hard. I'm sure any surgeon worth their scrubs would be able to find a way to get it out and then stitch up the artery."

"Devon," I said, trying to keep my voice level, "you can't just cut it out like a tumor. You gotta remember, this is a special tumor with teeth and acid blood."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why are you set on condemning these people to death?"

"I'm not! I'm just being realistic here. I want to keep these people safe, but to do that we have to kill the xenomorphs before they can get established and start hunting en masse. We're not going to be able to save everyone."

Though Devon opened his mouth to say more, Wolf interrupted. "Nichole," he played back, bringing my gaze to him. He was facing me, head cocked to the side.

"Whose voice is that?" Devon asked.

"No one," I muttered, ignoring the awful way my stomach knotted. "Stay here."

I joined Wolf's side expectantly and he leaned down to pick up Ray's ankle, then dragged it further away from where Devon was. When he tried to follow us, Wolf stopped him with an annoyed snarl and Devon put his hands up in surrender.

"I won't let him leave without you, just wait here, please?" I assured him.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever," he replied, taking an angry seat on the ground.

For another moment I watched him, though Wolf was clicking in annoyance. "Check in with Hassan, okay? But please don't make him call the military."

Devon raised his hand to acknowledge my request but said nothing. I wasn't completely satisfied with his response, but turned away and followed Wolf. Even though I didn't like it, we needed to check in or else Hassan would definitely send someone else and ruin everything.

When we were far enough away from Devon for Wolf's liking, he dropped Ray and kneeled by the body. I stood by him and asked, "What're you doing?"

He didn't answer and instead took out a knife from a place it was hidden at his ankle. In a couple deft movements he sliced off Ray's uniform and I took a surprised step back, trying to keep my eyes from wandering too far south. Unaware of my discomfort, he put the knife away and removed another kit from his back.

"What're you—"

One of the tools he pulled out looked like a miniature light saber. It even made a similar buzzing sound, but it was much less stable than the CGI had me believing. I shut my mouth; he wasn't going to answer me verbally. I just had to watch and wait.

However, when he started searing the guy's skin off his body, I suddenly didn't want to watch anymore. When I tried to extricate myself from the situation though, he grabbed me by the wrist.

"Wolf, I _knew_ this guy! I don't want to watch—"

His scathing admonishment made shut my mouth and he yanked me down to sit next to him. I groaned to myself, but did as he wished and repressed my disgust to watch. Contented for the moment, Wolf restarted his efforts to detach Ray's skin.

Sitting felt like heaven, anyway.

There was something comforting in our proximity. The darkness of the woods didn't seem to intimidating, the looming threat of shade beasts wasn't so stressing. Wolf was unstoppable, and he would know what to do.

And, eventually, I would too.

That's what he was doing right then; turning Ray's death into a teaching moment. Instances of his kind skinning and hanging up dead bodies riddled the reports I'd read. This was their thing, and he was determined to demonstrate for me. He showed me the tools and how to use them, but it was his kill so he wouldn't actually let me touch it.

"Do we really have time for this?" I asked after a moment. However, it was nice to take some pressure off of my legs, but we had a city to save.

He chittered and continued with his work.

"Alright then." We were _making_ the time.

Try as I might, I couldn't block out the corpse. I did my best to watch from my periphery so I didn't have to stare at a real person's muscles. The blood. . .the way skin bunched and flopped when it wasn't drawn taught over bones and musculature. . . .

Eventually I'd have to get used to it. Eventually I'd have to do it myself. I'd cleaned and gutted fish when I was young, but this was another thing entirely.

I wanted to ask why, to distract myself, complicated questions and answers were hard.

If anything I had a few guesses. He wasn't beheading Ray, so it wasn't for a trophy. Many of the bodies in the report still had their heads, as well. Maybe it was tradition, maybe it was so he could eat them later—the thought made me kind of sick—or it could have been anything, really.

Yes or no questions had worked when I was seventeen, they should still work now.

"Do you. . .eat these?" I was almost afraid to hear his answer.

Much to my relief, he hissed the familiar word for no. A miniscule part of my brain warned me he could be lying to spare my feelings. I couldn't imagine he'd do that, though.

"Then why?" I blurted out. So what if he'd have to perform an interpretive dance to answer? I wanted to know. He wasn't eating them—so he said—and he wasn't collecting a trophy, so I couldn't figure out what purpose this served.

The entire process was quick with the tool he had. Skin came off easy and he worked at tying a cord around both Ray's ankles. Wolf glanced at me briefly, tightened his knot, then stood.

For one bitter minute I thought he'd ignored my question. Wasn't the case, though; he'd had to formulate how to answer. He chattered a bunch of gibberish at me, then translated into heavily accented English. I couldn't even remember him speaking in English when we'd first met.

"Sacrifice. Offering. Good hunt." Then he said it again in his own tongue.

His answer baffled me and I stood there trying to process it as he took a single leap into the tree, hoisting Ray up with him.

_Fucking alien._

A sacrificial offering? To whom? Gods? His species had gods? It wasn't particularly far-fetched, but it was sort of weird thinking about Wolf on his knees praying to some bloody god. It sounded very Aztec, offering sacrifices in such a manner. Now it made sense why he wanted Devon to stay out of it: this was sensitive cultural shit only I was allowed to see.

I stepped out of the way when he swung Ray out, half-expecting his skinless corpse to fall on top of me. A shudder crept down my spine and I looked away, glad it had been hours since I'd last eaten. He'd pulled the body high up into the canopy; it wasn't going to found any time soon.

Wolf leaped down from the tree and landed with a heavy thud. I shot him a sour look and said, "See that's the kind shit that breaks humans legs."

He grunted at me, then put all his tools away and led me back to where we'd left Devon.

"Were you guys making out?" he greeted us, angry sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

Rolling my eyes, I shoved his shoulder. "Shut up, Devon."

"Where's Ray's body?" he asked. I thought I imagined the corner of his mouth flicking upward after I'd shoved him.

After glancing at Wolf to see if he'd be angry, I gave him the short answer. "In a tree."

"So he did skin him."

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Shrugging, I kept walking in what I thought was the direction of Gunnison. "Couldn't tell ya. C'mon, we have to find where the xenos went." Wolf definitely wouldn't want me telling him the truth.

Our alien companion growled a warning to me and I sighed. "Sorry, _kandy amdha."_ Wolf shoved me and said the phrase himself, shoulders squared and chest expanded. I let out an annoyed groan; he wanted me to take this seriously. I knew I should be as well, so I tried again. "_Kiande amedha."_

Satisfied, Wolf nodded and steered us a little more east. The short break had returned some of the strength to my legs, but my limp was still noticeable. At least the cold wasn't bothering me at the moment, what with all the walking and hiking. All the tension had spiked my body temperature as well, but as things calmed down and Wolf fell into tracking mode, the night started to bite.

It didn't help my legs any, that was for sure.

Every now and again Wolf would stop to examine something we couldn't see. It never took him long to pick up the trail if we lost it, and the sun started rising by the time we were close enough to Gunnison to see the buildings over the tree tops.

Devon grabbed me by the shoulder; he'd fallen behind at some point, pouting in the back still. He looked as tired as I felt—dark lines under his eyes, muscles slack.

"What?" I asked, not unkindly. I tried not to yawn.

"Where'd you get this thing?" He motioned to the blade on my back and the accompanying vest that held it in place.

"Wolf gave it to me."

"He just gave you a weapon?"

I nodded, then changed my mind and shook my head. "I _earned_ this weapon. It was mine when I was seventeen and it's still mine."

He blinked at me, then frowned. "He held on to it for you?"

"Yeah. I guess he did. You could probably get one, too, if you wanted."

"Sure," Devon snorted. "How would I do that?"

"Just kill a _kiande amedha_. I mean he gave this to me first because I wasn't armed, but he probably wouldn't hate you if you killed one," I pointed out. "Maybe not give you a weapon. . .but at least he wouldn't hate you."

Brows raised, he pointed to the spot where my scar was. "That's how you got this thing, right?"

"Yup."

"Right, and I'm just a normal human."

"Sure are."

My partner fell silent as the woods gave way to some concrete and the ground opened up into an entry to what smelled like sewers. Wolf led us inside and approached a camp of tattered furniture and meager belongings. It was empty, though, so the homeless people were either out or had fallen victim to the loose beasts.

"It's too wet and not warm enough down here for a nest," I observed. I thought better of touching the couch remains and kept my hands at my sides. Who knew what kind of bugs were crawling all over the stuff there.

"But there were people living here, so it would have been where they started," Devon decided.

Nodding, I moved to the edge of the walkway where the water started to pool. There was a single man attached to the wall that Wolf was examining, cocooned by a the drones. I figured he was a big boy and could deal with that body on his own.

Devon split from me to investigate something and I left him too it. I'd noticed a body leaned against a support pillar, but I could only see its back. I approached and crouched beside it, only to scramble back with a distressed and surprised gasp, losing my balance and falling on my ass. I shuffled to my feet and covered my mouth with the back of my hand.

Her chest was fine, but the entirety of her stomach was devastated. The cavity was full of blood and mushed innards. Entrails spilled over the edge, soaking her clothes. Blood was spattered all over her. Nothing about it was right.

"Nichole? You okay?" Devon asked, at my side in an instant.

"She—this isn't—"

Wolf pushed both of us back and kneeled before the woman's dead body. I gathered my wits and suppressed my disgust. Devon held me steady at the elbow, concern etched on his face. "Her—her stomach. It's her stomach, not her chest. I don't understand."

"What?" Devon let me go and joined Wolf's side. He took a visible breath and fled back to my side. "Holy shit. You've never seen that before?"

I shook my head. "It's always the chest. That's why I called them chestbursters."

He wiped his mouth, but he was still green. "Well what does it mean?"

All I could do was shake my head.

"You," Devon beckoned, facing Wolf. "Wolf or whatever, you seen anything like this before? Those things bursting out from the abdomen like that?"

However, Wolf ignored him.

"Hey! I'm asking you a question!"

Sighing, I put a hand on Devon's shoulder but addressed Wolf. "Wolf, have you seen this happen before with the _kiande amedha_?"

This time Wolf looked up from the body at me, then gave himself a shake and answered in the negative. Devon harrumphed next to me and I gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and we waited for Wolf to destroy all of the evidence.

"What do you think it means?" Devon asked.

"I have no fucking idea," I breathed. "Maybe something went wrong during implantation or gestation. It's hard to tell."

"Should have saved the body for an autopsy," he huffed. "That would have told us."

"Can't risk anyone else finding the body. What would you have us do with it?"

Devon just sighed and shrugged.

Wolf barked a command. He was standing at the back of the chamber, where the tunnel narrowed into the sewers proper. After beckoning for us to follow, he hopped into the still, black waters and forged into the darkness.

Groaning, Devon said, "He's like the energizer bunny, isn't he? We can't keep going at this pace without getting some food or a nap."

"We have to. There are, what? At least five of those things out there? One of them is going to turn into a queen at some point. If they're confined to the sewers, they'll be easy to track down and kill and then we'll be good to go," I said, heading into the tunnels.

However, I saw nothing wrong with sticking to the walkway instead of moving through the gross, fetid liquid up to Wolf's shins.

"At least, yeah. Could be more if some of the xenos from the plane survived."

I nodded and held my hand back to make sure Devon was coming along. "Just stay close, Devon. Bullets don't work so well. I can keep you alive if you stay with me."

"I'm sure I can handle it," he insisted.


	15. Back in the Saddle

**Hello, readers!**

**If you want to read the April Fools chapter I posted, please head to my profile and read it in my one-shot collection, Noctuary. You'll find it there under the name "Passions". :)**

**Sorry this took so long to post, I was having a really hard time with how to end it, and then it ended up being almost 7k words long! So hopefully the length makes up for the wait. Also, tomorrow I'll probably be posting the next chapter to _Ask Not the Sparrow _as well! Then the next three edited chapters of _Better Days_! It's an UPDATE-APALOOZA! Have three days off in a row, and work has cut hours (less money but more free time? #worth) so I've had a bit more time to work on stuff. . . **

**All except the Phantasm edits haha. But I'll get to those eventually. . .the first five edited chapters are up, so I guess you could go read those if you want! I'll. . .figure out a schedule for finishing those edits eventually haha.**

**For now, enjoy! And sorry about the long A/N!**

**~ Crayola**

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

Back in the Saddle

Each steady drip of the damp tunnels hit me like a punch to the chest. My fingers flexed in and out of a fist, ready at a moment's notice to draw my weapon against unforeseen enemies. I focused on Wolf's back, but kept my eyes peeled for ambush. Every breath I took echoed in my ears, but it wasn't enough to drown out that _awful dripping_.

An ambush didn't come. No matter how long I waited or anticipated the onslaught of screeches, it didn't come. Wherever they were, it was somewhere deeper in the sewers.

Cold water sloshed at my ankles and the darkness in the tunnels closed in. I tried to prevent my heartbeat from skyrocketing and managed to keep it barely above resting rate with help from my breathing exercises. I wasn't going to fall apart here. I could keep it together as long as I needed to.

I had to.

It was hard to tell without any source of sunlight how long we were in there for. It could have been hours or minutes. My bet was on hours, if the aching in my legs was any indication.

At some point, Wolf paused to pull a flat, angular device from his person. He tossed it out with a flick of his wrist, attaching it to the wall of the sewer. I watched its read light for a second, but it did nothing. Based on how my day was going so far, I had expected it to explode and seal us in the tunnels.

"Something coming?" I asked him.

He growled in the negative, but offered no explanation for his actions.

Typical, but at least we were safe. That was the important part.

Devon caught my attention from where he walked on the maintenance platform. Meanwhile, Wolf and I trudged through unpleasantness. My socks were never again be dry, but I wasn't going to be a pansy in front of Wolf, no matter what.

"What's he doing?" Devon wondered.

"Does it look like he told me?"

He rolled his eyes and said, "I just thought you'd know, is all."

With great effort, I managed to find some patience. "Devon, I hung out with this guy for like, five hours. Max. I've spent the last five _years_ on Earth and had no contact with him until now. I know only a little more than you do."

"But you had that computer thingy to contact him with," he pointed out.

"Not how it works," I clarified, shaking my head. "At least, I'm pretty sure it's not. He gave it to me as a distress call or something similar, in case I ever decided to join him. Did you think I stayed up all night gossiping with him or something?"

"Maybe," he muttered. I wondered if he was ignoring the "join him" part or hadn't noticed.

Since he had nothing else to say, I sighed and added, "If I have any new info that I feel I can share without making Wolf mad, I'll let you know. Okay?"

"Works for me," he shrugged. He still seemed disappointed, but there was nothing I could do.

My attention returned to watching Wolf then, to see if he had any objections. However, he was pretending not to pay us any heed. Instead, he was casting the small wall-disk-things onto every new tunnel opening we passed.

"So we don't get lost?" Devon guessed.

"Could be. Who knows. Probably gonna explode," I guessed. "Their shit always explodes."

"Wait," Devon said, after thinking about that for a few minutes, "is that what that sound was? Before. . .all this? In the woods?"

I pursed my lips. "Depends."

"Ray and I couldn't find the plane again. . .did he. . .?"

Errantly, I waved a hand in Wolf's direction. "Well, y'know, he had to get rid of the evidence and stuff. So he kinda, blew it all up."

"Right. Like they do."

"Like they do."

He groaned and tilted his head back in exasperation. I smirked at him and turned away. My gait was becoming less even, but I forced myself to keep going. Forced myself to ignore my exhaustion and hunger. If Devon's small noises of distress and heavy breathing was any indication, he wasn't feeling so hot anymore, either.

"Nichole," he whined.

"What?" I huffed.

"Tell the Terminator over there to stop, just for a little bit. Would ya? I've been awake longer than I have since high school," he muttered.

Glancing at Wolf, I caught him with his head tilted in our direction. I scratched my eyebrow and hesitated. A break would be nice, but we had important work. "I'd like to, but we gotta find these assholes before the whole city dies."

"It's not going to combust in the time it takes us to catch our breath," he retorted.

Rolling my eyes, I whirled on him and kept walking backwards. "You're acting like a grumpy six-year-old, Devon. Rub some dirt in it and keep going."

"Are we _there yet_?" he whimpered with a cheeky grin.

"Ugh," I grunted, turning back around. My tired and sore legs tripped over one another in the process. I wind-milled my arms around to brace my fall into the disgusting water, but strong arms propped me back up before I could go down.

Wolf set me on my feet and snorted an admonishment.

"Oh yeah, it's _my_ fault my legs never healed right," I muttered, rubbing my thigh.

He gestured toward the ledge Devon was on and grumbled in his way before disappearing with his cloaking device. I glowered, but seated myself all the same. Devon hovered behind me a moment, then sat cross-legged next to me.

"Guy sure is attentive when it comes to you."

"Shut up, Devon."

"I'm just saying," he mumbled. "Where'd he run off to, anyway?"

I leaned until I was lying on my back and closed my eyes. "He does that. He'll be back, I'm sure. Probably scouting ahead or something."

"Left us in here. . .gonna detonate those weird things he's been planting around."

"And why would he do that?"

Devon shuffled next to me. "I dunno, crush us under the debris."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"You said it yourself, you don't know the guy."

Groaning, I covered my face with my hands. "He's not going to bury us alive in the sewers, Devon. You know these guys are all about honor and shit. . .that wouldn't be very honorable at all. Really underhanded. Besides, I'm here. He might try that shit with you, but not me."

"Thanks, Nichole. Real reassuring."

Ignoring him, I tried to make the most of our reprieve. Somewhere in the back of my head a voice reminded me to be wary, that I shouldn't become too comfortable. Wolf's kind was dangerous, and I didn't know the exact specifications of the mark on my shoulder, how much freedom it afforded me. All I knew for sure was it put me ahead of the other humans.

At the very least it let Wolf's kind afford to trust me, even if only a bit. I shouldn't push my luck, but I couldn't help the comfort that came with being near Wolf. Sure he was a bit abrasive, but he'd never before done anything against me.

My legs had just been a fluke; I didn't really blame him. I just liked to tease him about it.

But I couldn't spend the entire time thinking about such things. I needed to rest my mind, too, so it would be sharp and ready. As soon as Wolf returned from whatever he was doing, it would be right back to the grind. A quick catnap wouldn't be out of place, and it was nice to get off my legs for a few minutes. Devon didn't move next to me, content to sit even with all of his griping and moaning earlier.

The sword against my back wasn't very comfortable, but I didn't need it to be. I didn't need to fall asleep, just close my eyes for a little bit and regain some energy. Devon was flicking pebbles into the murky waters—each one made a small _plip_ as they broke the surface.

It seemed like only seconds later I was opening my eyes, startled. I'd dozed off a bit, but wasn't sure for how long. Devon had fallen still next to me, and when I looked at him he was leaning back on his hands, eyes closed. I sighed, sat up, and pulled my legs up onto the ledge to do some stretches. Devon stirred next to me and caught my attention; he was look at me as if he wanted to say something.

"What's wrong?" I asked, reaching for my toes.

"Nothing."

"Something's wrong." I worked through all the stretches I knew by heart.

He shook his head and drew his handgun to check how much ammo he had. Though I wasn't sure what good it would do, at least he wasn't without some kind of protection. "Nothing. I'm just thinking about how crazy all this is."

I smirked. "We hunt aliens and boogeymen all the time. It's our jobs."

"Yeah but we've never worked _with_ the boogeyman before."

"He's not so bad," I insisted, rubbing my legs. "A little rough around the edges, but he pulls through where he's needed."

"So you say."

After another bout of silence that spanned a few minutes, I asked, "Did you call Hassan like I asked you to?"

Devon nodded. "Yup. Told him most of the xenos were killed on impact. That the predator was loose but injured, and it might take a day to track him down but we'd find him. Managed to convince him not to send in the cavalry."

"Did he sound mad?"

"Nah."

I let out a breath of relief and stood, bracing myself against the wall to do more exercises. Already they had helped loosen the muscles and relieved some pressure around the metal pins. Then I took further advantage of our break and took off my soggy socks, discarding them so I didn't have to deal with slushy steps.

My shoes would be fine. Probably. They were hiking boots, meant to withstand a bit of river forging or climbing.

"That's littering," Devon teased, pointing at my socks.

"Cram it."

We were both standing now, as rested as we were going to be. There were two tunnels Wolf could have gone down, and I hadn't the slightest idea which one it was. Devon huffed and put his hands on his hips. "Alright, it's been forever. Where'd your boyfriend go?"

He flinched when I punched his arm and I said, "I don't know. Guy's real good at disappearing."

"I'd say let's split up, but that's a terrible idea. You're the one with a sword, and he hates me."

"So you _are_ somewhat intelligent," I sneered, jabbing him in the ribs. "We'll head this way. I can see the light from one of his exploding wall decorations."

The two of us followed Wolf's high-tech breadcrumbs. I was miffed he'd left us and not returned, but for all I knew he was on his way back and we'd meet up with him halfway. The thought that he might be injured perished as soon as it came; Wolf was never injured. He'd always seemed like the lone ranger type, so traveling with some shadows was probably just a new thing for him. It seemed to me he was treating Devon worse than he had me when I was on that ship, though.

Maybe it was some sort of alpha male thing.

And I was convinced that it would be better for Devon if he could just prove himself, like I had. If he could kill an adult drone, he'd have at least an ounce of Wolf's respect. He wasn't going to do that with a handgun, but Wolf would never give him a weapon like mind.

I'd have to find a creative way to earn Devon his mark. It was a nice thought, having a human friend with me. He'd come, of course, if I asked him to.

"Damn, he sure went far," Devon observed several minutes later, pulling me from my thoughts.

"They do move fast."

"So crazy." He shook his head. "They're so big. How do they move like that?"

"Probably decades of training and hard work."

Again he started grumbling, and I tuned him out. Without Wolf nearby I was nervous; the drones could be hiding anywhere in the darkness and our human eyes would never know until it was too late. Our only hope was hearing them before that, but Devon was set on talking throughout the whole trip to find Wolf.

"Shh, quiet," I hissed after he'd complained for the tenth time about something inane. I wasn't paying attention, but I think it was about a blister on his foot.

"What?" he said.

"Shh!"

He crossed his arms and pouted, but kept his mouth shut while I channeled all my attention into the tunnels. I know I'd heard it. I would recognize the sound on any planet, in any lifetime. It sent chills chasing up and down my spine and stuck my breath in my throat.

Wolf's words reverberated in my mind. _Kiande amedha._

Xenomorphs.

"C'mon let's go," I quipped, grabbing Devon by the lapels and dragging him after me, toward the sound of their horrendous screeches.

They were faint, and they were on the hunt. I sprinted down the length of the tunnel with Devon in tow. He pulled himself free of my grip and ran alongside me, keeping stride with my limping pace. Something buzzed to life behind us and I glanced back just long enough to see a grid of red laser death fill the tunnel.

We had passed the latest wall device Wolf had placed, but it seemed my prediction had been off. Clearly not all of their shit exploded.

"We gotta hurry up!" I yelled, taking up the sprint again, glad I'd done those stretches.

"Then let's go, gimpy!" he said, grabbing and pulling me at a faster speed.

Plasma cannon fire echoed toward us and we spun around a corner, skidding through the water. My weapon was in my hands, itching to taste xeno blood again. Devon slid into position next to me, his own handgun sighted.

Drainage tunnels were set in various positions around the chamber, allowing dim light from outside to filter through, likely from streetlamps above. The hike down the mountain had taken ages without a car, agonizing hours. We'd arrived at the sewers with daylight left to spare, but the sun would have set by now, casting the city in darkness.

Wolf was locked in battle with a few drones, and a handful yet scaled the walls, already having slipped in before Wolf had activated his tech. We were outnumbered, but only by a few.

_This is doable! We'll be fine. Wolf and I can kill these no problem._

"Stay close, Devon!" I shouted, chopping at a drone that dared move too close. Its squeal was cut short as its head fell from its shoulders. I'd worry about netting Devon a kill later.

His answer was the piercing sound of his gun firing into the claustrophobic chamber. I flinched, but didn't let down my guard. Wolf was shooting off his own projectile weapons, and the majority of the drones were going after him, leaving me and Devon—or really just me—to pick off curious stragglers.

Adrenaline blazed through my veins, and with it came an exhilaration I hadn't felt in years. I was alive, every nerve alight with electricity. Falling back into the posture he'd taught me was foreign and cumbersome, but it came easy enough. Another drone tried to slip past us, more interested in Wolf, but it was distracted by Devon's attack and turned on him.

"Why! Why do bullets do nothing!" Devon hissed, backing into me when the snarling creature advanced. Though the drone had plenty of bullet holes, each dribbling acid blood, it was unperturbed.

I shouldered Devon out of the way and swung my weapon in a vicious arc, driving it back.

"Don't worry, I got it," I grunted, squaring off with the drone. It looked around me, and I used the momentary lapse in attention to cleave a deep gouge in its chest. Staggered, it fell back, and I pounced on the weakness. Three rapid slashes were enough to end its miserable existence once and for all. Panting, I stepped back.

"God damn you're good with that thing," Devon commented while reloading. It would be his last clip, but I still had mine.

Sometime after the fight I would have to remember to give it to him.

Then, a new sound interrupted my thoughts. I swung blindly at a drone that flit into my field of view, but it dodged around and leaped at Wolf, who grabbed it by the throat. He already had one in his other hand, and aimed the two shoulder-mounted cannons at each enemy.

However, another drone landed with a heavy sound behind him, splashing up a halo of dirty water around it. Before I could call out a warning or react, it slammed into Wolf with a powerful shunt, throwing him against the farthest wall. The drones he'd been holding were sent sprawling and the cannon charges fired off course, one blasting the wall harmlessly and the other sent the ceiling above tumbling over Wolf, burying him beneath debris.

"Wolf!" I cried.

"Nichole, focus!"

At Devon's prompting I turned my attention back to the newest drone to arrive. Behind it, others piled past bent bars, crawling through the small tunnels to the surface. My fingers tightened around my sword and I widened my stance. Determined to keep Devon behind me, I stumbled back into him with my free arm up as a protective shield.

Though I'd been ready to slay any and all enemies in my path, shock stayed my hand. The beast was no xenomorph I had ever seen.

The monstrosity before us was a massive creature of muscle and rage. It stood erect like the human-xenos, but it wasn't the emaciated bio-mechanical skeleton I had grown accustomed to—this one had some _mass_. Instead of the smooth, black carapace skulls, it had a stunted forehead with slicked-back, dread like appendages—familiar and foreign at the same time.

It hissed and pulled back a set of webbed, slime-covered mandibles. I took another step back, pushing Devon along despite his protests.

An image of the predator Morgan had captured flashed across my mind.

We'd found him in the woods, killed when the chestburster had been born.

This was that chestburster, all grown up.

Our stare-down ended when Devon unleashed a barrage of semi-automatic fire upon it. The bullets pelted the beast like paintball pellets: painful but hardly lethal. The hybrid launched itself at us, roaring a war cry that rattled my insides. I tripped over Devon in my haste to counter and shoved him aside. There was just enough time to raise my weapon and block—then it was on me, forcing me back against a guard railing. I pressed my free hand to the flat of the blade, battling to keep the thing off me.

Raw power fueled the monster; it was like trying to stop a car with my bare hands. It kept pressing its forehead against my sword, growling and clawing for purchase. The bars of the railing cut into my back and the hybrid was a few seconds from shoving me through a small opening between the metal rods. Or breaking my spine, whatever came first.

Grunting through clenched teeth, I put all my strength into shoving the thing off of me, pushing forward with any purchase I could find. I planted my feet against the wall and put my legs into it, using that leverage to force it back enough to move my back off the railing.

We weren't quite in a deadlock, as my strength would fade long before its did.

Gunfire shattered my concentration. The creature's body jerked with each bullet pummeling its back and it withdrew to engage its aggressor.

With my feet on the wall and nothing keeping me up, I fell forward face-first. I dropped my blade in order to brace for impact. Water splashed up, covering me head to toe in nastiness. Ignoring the way my skin crawled as water sluiced over me, I groped through the murk to find my dropped weapon. My fingers wrapped around it seconds later and scrambled to my feet so I could come to Devon's aid.

He was backed up against a wall, emptying his clip into the creature's chest, but still it advanced on him. Behind it, its sharp tail lashed like an angry cat's. Grip white-knuckled on my sword, I waded toward the creature and stomped down on its tail, immobilizing the appendage beneath the waters.

Snarling, it whirled toward me, wrenching its tail free and compromising my balance. I stumbled to keep upright, swinging my weapon in wild arcs, anything to keep the hybrid at bay.

However, it dipped and dodged around my sloppy blows before slamming into me and taking me down, pinning me against a wall waist-deep in water. I dropped my weapon from surprise and it skittered across the platform behind me, well out of reach.

The Hybrid hissed and peeled back its mandibles, membranes slick with mucus. I froze, terror icing the back of my head and filling my limbs with lead. The hybrid moved within range of the second set of jaws that always lay nestled in the creatures first mouth, coming in for the kill. I struggled against it, wiggling and kicking to free myself.

It became more apparent that my attempts were useless. The thing was strong and I had nothing to left to fight with. Already my muscles were quivering, running on fumes and adrenaline. Defiance overcame my fear and I glared at it, my jaw set.

If this was I how I went, I was going to stare death in the face, not cower from it.

But the beast moved past kill range and examined me instead, close enough that its forehead and closed jaws brushed my cheek. My boldness faltered and my heart plummeted. The hybrid nudged my head to one side, then the other. I inhaled once and held it, watching from the corner of my eyes as it moved away.

For one brief second I thought it was going to leave me alone. I couldn't imagine why or for what, but for one glorious second I thought it was going to walk away. My heart thundered in my chest, my blood roared in my ears as I waited.

Instead of leaving me alone, it reared back and spread those mandibles wide. It could have killed me at any time, so why had it waited? Did this one play with its food?

Panic set in and I couldn't breathe. My vision blurred and I tried to move away, but I was stuck against the wall. The back of my head hit the bricks and mortar and I clenched my teeth shut against a whimper, loathe to show that kind of weakness. Before the thing could make its move, though, it was wrested off me. I was almost pulled along with it, but it let go and I tumbled to my knees, once again doused in sewer water.

My hair clung wetly to my face and neck. The walls were closing in, bearing down and smothering me. The crash of destruction seemed far off and insignificant while I tried to catch my breath, tried to suppress the bile rising in my throat.

_Keep it together, Nichole_.

Somehow I was able to stand and I held my arms out from my side. I took a deep breath and forced myself to look up. Forced myself to stand tall, but I couldn't stop the tremors wracking me. My fingernails bit into the skin of my palm and I ground my teeth together.

I had to find my weapon. I looked around wildly, ignoring the panic and pushing it as far down as I could. The sword was no longer on the platform, or at least not where I could see it.

But I had to fight somehow. I balled my hands into fists and kept whirling, looking for enemies, but the hybrid was gone and Wolf was watching the hole it had disappeared into; the wall was cracked and crumbled, as if it had forced itself to fit with great strength.

A weight pressed on my shoulders and I spun around swinging, fist colliding with the soft flesh of Devon's head. He took a few steps away from me, stunned, and gave me a hurt look.

"What the hell, Nichole?"

"D-Devon—I'm—"

He pulled his hand away from his face, but there was no blood. "Jesus. . . . The thing's gone, it's fine. . .didn't mean to startle you."

I went to him, but didn't dare touch him. "Devon I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—"

Smirking, he shook his head and said. "It's fine, my fault. But damn, girl. Got a mean right hook."

In his hand was my blade and he held it up to me. I took it and slapped it onto the magnet at my back. If there were no enemies, I didn't need it right then.

The adrenaline ebbed and I was struck with a sudden realization—that I'd almost been killed. Again. The shock took me by surprise and tears stung my eyes, a pressure forming in my head. But I turned away from Devon and Wolf, clenching my eyes shut and wrapping my arms around myself to stop the shuddering.

"Nichole, you alright?" Devon's voice cut through the oncoming attack and I focused on it and Wolf's curious chittering. "Hey, look at me."

Nodding my head, I turned toward him and kept my arms around me. "I'm fine, I'm just wet and cold. I'm fine, really. Everything's okay."

It was hard to tell who I was trying to convince more.

"Are you sure?" Devon sure didn't sound persuaded.

"I'm fine! I'm good!" I insisted, waving him off. At the same time I was trying to ignore the flashes in my mind; memories from years ago. Memories I thought wouldn't bother me anymore. _Couldn't_ bother me anymore.

_A facehugger, flying toward me while I tried to work the soldier's gun._

_ Wondering the halls of the ship, hopeless and alone. _

A fresh memory, a wound still open and raw in the annals of my mind, surfaced. I had to battle a wave of nausea as I thought about lying on the floor in that hallway, facing down the Royal Facehuggger as it skittered toward me.

I'd never felt so helpless.

Hand against my head, bent over and took a few more deep breaths. I counted to ten as fast as I could a couple times, and faced Wolf. He was watching me with a cocked head, probably watching my vitals or some shit with that magic mask. Or maybe he didn't even care and I was being paranoid.

He seemed so unfettered by everything. No matter how hard I tried, I had to deal with my humanity and the emotions that came with it. I'd like to believe he hid it well, but I knew that wasn't likely. At the very least I was able to move past my hindering emotions. I'd managed to use everything I had to keep calm and be better than my fear.

Desperate to move their attention off of me, I made a wild gesture toward the crumbled wall. "Well? We gonna go chase those things or what?"

Devon looked between us and seemed ready to say something. However, before he could, Wolf growled in the affirmative and slipped something over his fist. It whirred to life, and he climbed onto the catwalk behind us. I started to follow, but leapt back when he punched right through the concrete ceiling to the street above.

"This guy," I muttered, climbing up onto the walkway once rocks stopped falling. Tires squealed up top, making me wince. Maybe they'd just keep driving.

"Well this is going to be a PR nightmare," Devon muttered. "Does he think before doing, ever?"

"Not really," I sighed.

With practiced ease, Wolf jumped straight up and onto the street above. I shook my head at him, though was certain he wouldn't be able to see. I motioned for Devon to give me a boost up, but he put his hand on my shoulder and gave me a searching look.

"What? Help me up," I requested.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine."

He shook his head and held me still when I tried to escape. "You're not an emotionless machine like that alien up there, Nichole. That thing was fucking _terrifying._ I couldn't shoot it! I can usually shoot anything thrown at me."

I rolled my eyes and stepped back. "I'm _fine_. All of this is going straight into the vault and I'll deal with it later."

"Yeah, that's healthy."

"Just help me up and stop playing shrink," I demanded. Wolf growled from above, also eager to start the hunt.

Grumbling, Devon locked his fingers together and I stepped up, using his boost to reach for the edge of the street. However, when I put all my weight on his hands, Devon grunted and dropped me. My legs buckled when I hit the platform and I fell on top of Devon, knocking him down too.

"What the hell, Devon?"

We untangled and I glared at him. He raised his hands above his head and said, "Look here, lady, I'm tired, okay? I didn't. . .brace myself right. Let's try again."

"Don't drop me this time," I growled, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

"Lose some weight, then," he muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing."

Devon boosted me up again, this time with success. I grabbed the edge of the street and started to hoist myself up with Devon pushing on my feet, but my upper body strength was failing me. I struggled for a moment to pull myself up, hooking my arm over the asphalt.

"Hurry up! I can't hold you forever!"

"I'm _trying_," I hissed through clenched teeth. My muscles refused to work, shuddering from the exertion and fatigue.

Wolf's coarse hand startled me at first, but he lifted me up the rest of the way with minimal effort. He set me up on my feet and cocked his head to the side, crackling a question that I brushed off, instead leaning down over the hole.

"Alright Devon, jump!"

He snorted. "Yeah. . .right."

It took a couple tries of him climbing up on the railing and jumping, but eventually I was able to grab his hand and keep my grip on it. Wolf offered no help with Devon until it became apparent that I wasn't in any condition to pull him on my own. I didn't ask for his help, content with my futile struggle to heave Devon up.

Still and all, Wolf reached past me and yanked Devon up to the street, sprawling him out on the ground and wiping his hand free of Devon cooties afterwards.

"Don't be a child," I shot at the alien.

His response was a derisive churring sound.

In an attempt to be the bigger man, Devon mumbled his thanks to Wolf and turned to face the hole we'd crawled out of, his face twisting in disdain. "How are we going to explain this?"

"Gas leak?" I offered, wringing water from my shirt. I hoped there were showers in space, but seriously doubted it.

Devon's disapproving expression was piercing. "Really? Gas leak?"

I motioned toward the eyesore in the street. "Isn't that how we usually explain explosions?"

"I guess, but it wasn't really an explosion. He _punched_ a hole in the street."

Sighing in exasperation, I waved my arms. "I don't know then, Devon! We just _won't_ explain it. They'll come up with their own conclusions and then we can leave covering shit up to Hassan. Right now, we need to worry about the fact that these things are _loose in the city_!"

"They don't have any way to multiply right now, no queen," he reassured me. "They're just running around looking for a place to nest."

"That doesn't mean they aren't still dangerous to the citizens," I retorted.

When Devon opened his mouth for his own rebuttal, Wolf cut him off with a snort. Devon glanced at Wolf and harrumphed. "Right, not allowed to argue with the _second in command_."

"Damn right. Wolf, do you know which way they went?"

"He should really cloak. Sure it's dark and shit, but people will still see him," suggested Devon.

Ignoring him, I waited for Wolf to do his thing. It only took a few seconds, and then he was pushing me across the street. As if in afterthought, or perhaps he'd thought enough time had gone that it seemed like_ his_ idea and not Devon's, he cloaked himself.

"Really? We're not going to stop? For just a little bit?" Devon complained.

"Toughen up, it'll be alright," I shot over my shoulder.

However, after a few minutes of tracking Wolf through the allies and backstreets, I realized Devon wasn't quite next to me. I looked around and found him straggling, half bent over and shuffling his feet as he tried to follow.

"Hurry up, Devon!" I called.

He shook his head and looked up at me. "Nichole. . .I can't. I can't anymore."

"What do you mean?"

Devon stretched his back and staggered toward me. "Listen, I gotta stop. I'm fucking tired, and starving. I can't go on anymore. You can go ahead and leave me if you want, but I can't follow that alien anymore. He's a god damn _machine_," he panted.

I opened my mouth but couldn't find the words. Instead I turned helplessly toward Wolf, trying to spot the ripple of light that indicated where he stood, but couldn't spot it. "Wolf?"

Seconds later, he appeared—yards ahead. I faltered, unsure if he'd continued after I'd stopped for Devon or if he'd been that far ahead without me realizing. I couldn't deny that I was running on fumes, but we didn't have the luxury of breaks, and Wolf wanted to keep going. _Could_ keep going. I needed to match his pace, _had_ to match his pace.

The alley was safe for now, and Devon had to prop himself up on the wall of the building next to us. Now that I wasn't moving anymore, my legs were shaking and it was nothing short of my own willpower that was keeping me standing.

"I gotta stop, Nichole. We've been awake for. . . ," he checked his watch and closed his eyes in disapproval. "Thirty hours. If I'm going to keep going, I need _coffee_ and _food_. Ten minutes to sit down."

There wasn't much conviction in my voice when I said, "We don't have time to stop."

He looked behind me and I followed his gaze to Wolf. He hadn't moved since he'd turned off his cloak and was watching us with his head tilted. I couldn't hear the noise he was making, so I couldn't tell if he was irritated or anything else.

"Then I guess if you really need to, you can go without me. I wish you wouldn't, though. He'll run you ragged if you're not careful, Nichole," Devon said, nodding his head toward Wolf.

My eyes were burning and I rubbed them. I'd been hiding yawns for a while, ever since my latest dose of adrenaline had run out. Standing was becoming more and more of a chore, but I forced myself to stay upright. I couldn't be tired. If Wolf wasn't tired, I couldn't be.

I moved closer to Devon and lowered my voice. "Devon I know, I know it's hard. I'm hungry, too, and I'm exhausted, but I have to keep going. I can't. . .be left behind. I have to be better."

"Nichole," he sighed, rubbing his face. This close I could see the bags under his eyes, like growing bruises. "You do _not_ have to prove yourself to that alien. To _anyone_, least of all me. He's already given you that. . .hall pass on your shoulder. He's accepted at least part of you."

He reached out and pulled my collar away from the scar tissue on my shoulder. "You're _human_, Nichole. If he can't accept you as that, then you're better off without him."

Before I could say anything, Wolf was at my side, pulling me away from Devon and growling at my partner. I stumbled when my legs refused to work right, but Wolf kept his grip on my arm and helped me stay on my feet.

Devon tried to look taller than he was and squared off with Wolf. "What? Did I strike a nerve or something big guy? Maybe you shouldn't be eavesdropping."

"Devon, try not to taunt the alien that can rip your spine out with his hands," I muttered.

Wolf let the comment slide and released my arm. He addressed me, babbling in his increasingly familiar language. When I didn't quite understand, he pushed me toward Devon with a gentle nudge. As gentle as one as strong as him could be, anyway.

Shaking my head I said, "No, we can. . . ," but stopped myself mid-sentence and sighed in defeat. Devon already said he couldn't keep going, and it was only a matter of time before I collapsed.

If I was being honest with myself, I didn't want to leave Devon alone, anyway. He was my partner, and we'd always seen the missions through together. And if I wasn't with him, I was afraid I'd never see him again.

Afraid I'd lose him the same way I'd lost all of my friends.

No way I was abandoning him, not like I'd abandoned them.

"You sure you're okay without m—with us splitting up like this?" I caught myself and lowered my head to hide my embarrassment. Of course he'd be okay without me.

He dipped his head in agreement, chittering idly. I sighed and gave him a determined look. "We'll catch up as soon as we can, okay? We know which direction they went, so we'll find you, and try to see what's going on in town at the same time, okay?"

Again he nodded, and then disappeared into thin air. I watched the spot where he'd been for a second, lips pursed. He didn't seem disappointed, but I couldn't tell.

"Well," Devon grunted, managing to stand on his own. "Now that we have Big Daddy's blessing, I saw a Starbucks a block away and some sort of pizza place back where we came, or a restaurant further down the road. It's not so late, hopefully we can get in before somewhere closes."

I hummed to let him know I heard him. I felt like I was taking the walk of shame, admitting that I couldn't follow Wolf forever.

But Devon was right, I was only human.

And I'd only ever be human.


	16. Demons

**Hello, readers!**

**Hope you didn't wait too long for this chapter! It was hard for me to get back into the groove of things after doing that massive update a couple weeks ago. I posted three updated chapters to _Better Days, _six updated chapters for _Phantasm_ and then the chapters for this one and _Ask Not the Sparrow._ So I had to take a little break! Plus my job has me coming in at 5am Monday through Friday now and I'm always so tired x.x This past week was generally pretty stressful for me but I'm better now.**

**And, good news! Citrine and I are cooking up something. So ;) Look for that.**

**I've got a question for you readers! If you've read any of _Ask Not the Sparrow_, I'm curious to know which writing style you like better. I'm not going to start writing either one in a new style, but it might help me decide how to write any other endeavors I might have. :) So let me know what you think. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter. There's a lot of emotion in it.**

**~ Crayola**

**EDIT: I REMOVED THE APRIL FOOLS CHAPTER SO THERE ARE ONLY 16 CHAPTERS NOW, UNTIL I GET THE NEXT ONE WRITTEN. I APOLOGIZE TO THE GUESTS WHO COULDN'T FIGURE THIS OUT.**

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Chapter Fifteen

Demons

Devon was quick to flash his badge and push us to the front of the Starbuck's line. The two other patrons grumbled and glared, but didn't dare contest our claim. Devon told me I looked ridiculous with the sword on my back, but I didn't really care what anyone thought. We ordered two of their biggest coffees and thanked everyone for their cooperation.

"Shouldn't we have said something?" he asked once we were outside.

"About what?" I took a tentative sip of my hot drink and recoiled when it burned my tongue.

He looked over his shoulder before pointing me down the road to a small diner with a neon "open" sign in the front window. "Y'know, maybe mention that their lives are all in danger. That they should go home and lock themselves up inside?"

The last few steps of the diner were murder. I took a deeper swig of coffee and let the warm liquid soothe me. I said, "We'd have to tell them why, you realize?"

"We're FBI. Just tell them a serial killer's loose."

I shook my head and stopped at the threshold, my hand on the door. "We don't need to incite a panic. We should have them hunted down by the end of the night, maybe tomorrow morning at the latest. The less we disrupt their lives, the better. We just have to kill them before one can become a queen, and we're good."

"That's stupid," Devon scoffed, pushing past me into the building.

"Excuse me?" The bell over our heads rang.

Our conversation had to pause when we were greeted by the—very pregnant—waitress. She was harried and disgruntled.

She looked between us, a menu in her hand. Though she wore a smile on her face, it was forced and insincere. The look of a tired person ready to leave. "Hi there, welcome. I'm afraid we're closing very soon so a lot of the menu won't be—"

Devon cut her off with a small gesture and flashed her his disarming smile. "Hey don't worry your pretty little head about it. I'm Agent Hart and this is my partner, Agent Shain, of the FBI. You are?"

"Ah, sorry. Carrie." her smile faltered as she glanced at Devon's badge. I rolled my eyes at him.

The waitress continued, "Is this about Buddy and Sam?"

"Kind of," Devon said. "We haven't had anything to eat in the past like, 24 hours so we'll just buy whatever you happen to have already made. We're in a bit of a hurry."

Nodding, Carrie turned part toward the kitchen. "Sheriff did say Ray was out all night with two feds. I'll go see what we have. Feel free to sit wherever you like." She gave us another false, and now nervous, smile before she disappeared behind the old western, swinging saloon doors that led to the kitchen and employee areas.

We occupied the closest booth to us and sank into the cushioned seats—after I removed my sword and set it next to me along with my bag. I glanced around at the plethora of homey decorations on the wall and gave the wooden cow sitting on a shelf a critical scowl. The TV mounted on the wall in the back wasn't on anymore, only showing static, and for the most part the lights had started to turn off.

"She's pregnant, Nichole."

His voice startled me and I let out a shaky breath. "Really? I hadn't noticed," I replied sarcastically. "What of it?"

"We gotta send her and whoever else is back there home."

"If you want to say something so bad, why haven't you? You're a grown man who can make his own decisions," I huffed, leaning back and closing my eyes. Sitting—in a real chair and not on pavement—was like my own slice of heaven.

Groaning, Devon sprawled out over the table cloth covered in words and pictures. "This is your dog and pony show. I'm just along for the ride."

"Then hush and give me a few minutes of peace," I muttered, pillowing my head on my arms.

He sighed, but fell silent, face down on the table.

A tentative hand on my shoulder had me jerking upright seemingly seconds later, but it appeared that I had dozed off before the waitress—Carrie—could bring us the food. She took a few surprised steps back and I set down the fork I had gripped in my hand.

"Sorry."

"That's. . .fine," she mumbled, her eyes wandering to the blade sitting next to me on the booth. I grimaced and shifted my bag to hide it from her. "I hope this food's okay."

Devon snorted awake and peered around through narrowed eyes. "Wuh?"

"Graceful," I huffed, taking a long drought from my luke-warm coffee. A headache was starting, brought on from exhaustion. I spoke louder to the waitress. "Whatever food you have is fine."

She nodded and set the plates down in front of us. Devon leaned back and stared at what she served, as if he couldn't believe the two half-cobs of corn, macaroni and cheese, and ham sandwiches were real. I shook my head at him and smiled at Carrie. "It's perfect. We're starving."

"Great. Let me know if I can get you anything else."

"Have any coffee left over?" Devon asked, staring at his empty foam cup with disdain.

Carrie shrugged. "I can make a pot, it doesn't take too long. How do you like it?"

"I need it the blackest you can give me," he yawned.

Meanwhile, I scarfed down forkfuls of macaroni. At the mention of coffee, I perked up and raised my hand. It took a second for me to finish chewing and swallowing before I could say, "Get me a cup, too. I need a thing of cream and two spoon fulls of sugar, please."

"Sure thing. I'll be right back."

"Take your time," Devon said, waving his hand.

I glared at him, but didn't want to rush Carrie, especially since we were there after normal hours, and she'd probably be hurrying to get us out as it was. I would have to give her a decent tip. She turned to leave and Devon joined me in horking down our food. We said nothing, the only sound that of our silverware clinking against plates. Carrie brought us our coffee after a few minutes and I finished off what was left my Starbucks drink and moved on.

"Any water or anything?" she asked.

"No thanks," I muttered around a mouthful of corn. Devon only managed a non-committal sound, so Carrie scurried off to finish with her cleaning or other closing duties.

The first sip of coffee told me I should have asked for more sugar, but I wasn't about to make her fix it. I nursed the hot cup of bitter swill until my food was gone, and Devon followed suit, finishing his meal a little faster than I.

We stacked our dishes and Carrie came around immediately to pick them up. I had to give her credit, she was wearing the perfect customer service face despite our inconveniencing her.

"Separate checks?"

"Just one check. I'll pay in cash," I said, cutting off whatever Devon was about to say.

"You sure?" he asked.

Nodding, I stood and pulled my wallet from my bag and thumbed through the bills, pulling out all I had—about one-sixty in twenties and fives. I slapped them down on the table top and gave the waitress a smile. "Keep the change."

She stared at me as if I'd suddenly sprouted a second head. "That's—this is way too much."

"I know what I set on the table. Agent Hart, let's go."

He was also giving me the most disbelieving stare. I beckoned to him again and this time he removed himself from his seat and followed me out of the diner. He shot Carrie his own gratitude before the door closed and stopped me on the other side of the street.

"What the actual hell, Nichole?"

"What? She deserves a good tip."

Devon glanced back at the store and shook his head. "That was a ridiculous tip. Like, three-hundred percent!"

"It's not like I'm going to be needing it. So can we go? We need to catch up with Wolf."

Before I could turn and leave, he grabbed my arm again and stopped me. "What the hell do you mean you don't need it?"

I rolled my eyes and gave him a stern look. "I told you, Devon. Back at headquarters. I'm not coming back. That's why I told you to stay, why I told you I was going to do this alone. But you insisted in coming with me."

We stared at each other for a moment, and he must have seen the answer in my eyes. His widened a fraction and he leaned away from me.

I broke our contact and he grabbed my shoulders. "I've been avoiding this all night but, you—"

After shrugging from his grasp I turned away. He shuffled in front of me and made me look at him. "That's what this is, isn't it? That stupid computer you used to contact that monster with."

"He's not a monster!"

"You're planning to leave with him. Why? What's possibly out there for you? You're _human_, Nichole! How long have you been planning this? When did you decide you were going to go on some space adventure with a fucking _alien_?"

Teeth grinding, I shoved him. "Don't talk about him like that!"

"Christ, Nichole. You like, in love with him or something?"

"What? What the fuck kinda question. . . ?"

Mouth open, he floundered for words and went with, "Cuz I mean I'd understand, the guy looks like he works out and—"

"Can you take _anything_ seriously for more than five minutes, maybe?" I groaned.

He waved his hand in the general direction Wolf had gone. "I'm seriously asking!"

"No, Devon!"

"Then what is it?"

Groaning, I tried again to head out and he once again stopped me. "Devon! Let's _go_! The longer we sit here talking about this bullshit the higher the chances are these things get situated and start spawning a queen!"

"Please, Nichole," he begging, causing me to pause. "I thought I knew you but obviously I don't, so tell me. Tell me why you would consider something like, like running off with an alien."

"Can we talk about this another time, Devon?"

"When? You're planning to leave for _space_ after we're done here."

I shook my head and chewed on my lip for a moment, unable to meet his gaze. After taking a deep breath, I locked eyes with him again and said, "I _never_ would have gotten off that crashed ship without him. But he didn't coddle me, he didn't carry me all the way home. He gave me a way to help myself. He showed me I was better than I thought I was."

Devon searched my face, but remained silent when I paused.

"I _died_ on that ship, Devon. It destroyed everything I was _going_ to be, everything that _might_ have been," I continued, holding back tears. I rubbed my face. "My hope at a normal life. College, a family. . .all my friends, dead. We weren't sure if I'd ever be able to walk again, and even if I could I wasn't going to play sports anymore."

He glanced down, pursing his lips into a thin line. For a moment I thought he was trying to find something to say, but still he was quiet.

"No one at school would talk to me. The teachers treated me like a porcelain doll, ready to break apart at the drop of a dime. My sister hated me—still hates me, probably—because she knew it wasn't _terrorists_, but I couldn't tell anyone the truth. I'd wake up to my mom crying next to my bed, telling me I was screaming in my sleep and she didn't know how to help.

"And yet, despite all of that, despite the fact that I was broken and no one dared touch me, dared be the thing that finally made me snap, _he_ _came back_. I was crippled, emotionally and physically, but he still came for me. He offered me—a _place_."

"So why didn't go with him then?" he asked, voice low.

Somehow I'd managed to keep my composure, though red-faced and bleary-eyed. I wiped my tears on the back of my hand and shrugged. "I was scared, terrified. Leave home? Yeah, I was miserable but I was _safe_. And god, I needed to be _safe_ for a while."

"So you told him you'd think about it." I nodded and he asked, "Why are we here now, then?"

"The agents assigned to my case told me they found stragglers, xenomorphs, in those woods and captured them. Even back then I could figure out that was a stupid idea."

He inferred, "You wanted to see them destroyed."

"Yeah, but it took a lot fucking longer than I thought it would to get a chance to do anything."

"But why?" he asked, hunching his shoulders. "Why would you go through all this trouble? Those things are nothing but a thorn in your side. You could have turned away, forgotten all about it and tried to pick up the pieces of your life."

For a moment I couldn't think of an answer. I scanned the street, as if I would find it there, and threw my arms up. "I don't know. I figured something like this would happen."

"Someone else would have dealt with it, it didn't have to be you."

I huffed and drew my fingers over the mark Wolf had given me. "I guess I felt like I had to. It would have eaten at me, knowing that the things responsible for the death of my friends and countless others were out there somewhere, waiting for their chance to get out, to start it all again. This mark he gave me, it means something in his culture. I didn't want. . .didn't want to sit on it, wondering if I'd really earned it or just got lucky."

His expression was unreadable as he studied me.

"Wondering," I added, "if he'd still think I was worthy of it. I wanted to be that person this. . .this warrior thought I was. The person he wanted on his team despite any disability I might have. I wasn't going to waste away sitting on my ass for the rest of my life, and I'll never be truly been free until they're all killed."

Again we stood locked in eye contact for a moment. I thought for a while that Devon was looking at me with sympathy, but it was gone so fast I figured I imagined it.

"Well, then I guess we better get to killing these things," he said at last.

It was almost enough to break my well-constructed poise, but before I could respond, a scream split the night behind us. We both whirled, staring at the diner we'd just left. All was dark inside, but after watching the windows, I was certain I saw movement.

"Do you think it was Carrie?" Devon asked.

My answer was a quick dash back across the street. The majority of my stamina had returned, energy renewed and legs rested enough to carry my weight again. However, Carrie had already locked the door behind us and I couldn't force it open.

I stepped back and braced myself, but Devon grabbed me and yanked me away.

"Didn't you learn not to kick doors already?" he chided me.

"I wasn't going to—!"

"Doesn't matter what you were going to do, the door opens outward, not inward. Give me your sidearm, mine's out," he demanded.

Once my weapon was in his hands, he shot the hinges until he was able to swing the door open and I rushed inside, blade in hand. A single black drone was waiting for us, leaping toward me with a screech as soon as I'd passed the threshold. I swung with a sharp flourish and its arms separated from its body, which landed on top of me and drove me to the floor.

Acid hissed in my ears, pooling on either side of me and eating through the wooden floor. The thick puddles threatened to spread underneath me.

Devon was there, foot planted on its head, and he forced it off me. I kicked out with my legs once its weight was lifted and sent it tumbling further away, but it drove a pang of white-hot pain through my right leg when I extended it a little too far.

Arms hooked underneath mine, Devon pulled me back and out of the way of the acid. Feet planted, I ignored the discomfort in my thigh and drove the tip of my blade up through the xenomorph's mouth, burying it almost to the hilt in its head. I swiftly pulled it back out and backed up, shaking loose drops of alien blood onto the floor before it could run onto my bare hands.

"Where's Carrie?" Devon demanded.

"Check the back!" I snapped, wiping the flat sides of my sword on one of the tables, melting away chunks of plastic sheet and wooden furniture.

My partner jumped over the fallen drone and I followed after him once I was certain I wasn't going to lose some fingers. He burst through the swinging doors and I pulled them out of my way, almost crashing into him when he stopped short.

"Devon—move!"

Pushing him aside, I made to attack and then rocked to a halt, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

"Nichole. . .what. . . ?"

The Hybrid was there, pinning a helpless Carrie against the dishwasher. I'd come in expecting nothing short of a blood bath. Instead I found it holding her in a demonic embrace, face latched to hers in a hellish rendering of a facehugger attack—thin, membranous mandibles flared against her cheeks. Her throat bulged as several large intrusions made their way down.

It was as if the very blood in my veins had frozen. I could do nothing but stand there, unable to look away and unable to move. Devon was as shocked into inaction as I was, neither of us certain about what we were looking at.

Uncertain that it was even _real_.

Everything was over in a few seconds. The Hybrid withdrew from Carrie, leaving her unconscious and covered in mucus. It turned its flat, oblong head toward us and snarled, standing at full height.

Devon recovered before I could and opened fire. A hail of bullets pummeled the creature's torso and it retreated out the back. In its wake it left behind the echoes of gunfire, fading into a stunned silence shared between Devon and I.

He exhaled sharply and I flinched, arms going limp at my sides. I held my blade loosely, the tip scraping the ground by my feet.

"It. . .it. . . ." Words failed me as I tried to digest what I'd just witnessed.

Then Devon was at Carrie's side, finger against her neck to check for a pulse. "She's alive, breathing. But. . .was it. . .did that thing just. . . ?"

I shuffled over to his side, standing at his shoulder. "It. . .impregnated her."

"There was so many," Devon marveled, his hand over his mouth.

We were silent for a time, then I slowly lifted my sword, adjusting my grip. Devon stood and pushed my arm back down, expression stern. "What are you doing?"

"You know what I'm doing, or else you wouldn't have stopped me."

"Nichole—" he glanced from me to Carrie, still out like a light. Who knew how long she'd be like that. "There's gotta be something, I mean. . .this early in, we could—"

"Could do what?"

"I don't know, but—"

There was no emotion behind my words, I couldn't summon the right ones. I tore my eyes away from Carrie and set my free hand on Devon's shoulder. "We can't take her to the hospital. They wouldn't know what to look for and we wouldn't be able to explain."

"Then we can call Hassan, have him come and do something. Bring our own medical team, have her airlifted," he said, reaching for anything.

"That would take hours, remember how long it took us to get here? She doesn't have hours."

"We can't just—Nichole you can't possibly—"

I grimaced and squeezed his shoulder. When I spoke, my voice was low. "We're not going to be able to save everyone this time, Devon."

He chewed on my words, then wiped his mouth and nodded, pacing in a small circle with one hand on his hip. I let him, watching him with a muted sense of sympathy. "You can go outside. I'll. . .I'll deal with Carrie."

Devon stopped short and rushed me, grabbing my shoulders. "No, no, no."

"What. . . ?"

"We do things _together_. I don't care what it is, you're not 'dealing with' any of this alone."

"Devon I can—"

"I know you _can_," he interjected. "But you _shouldn't_."

Rolling my eyes I said, "So you'll just stand there and watch me do it?"

After a brief moment of staring each other down, I pushed him off me—not unkindly—and took a step back. "Stop stalling, Devon. Let me do this."

"I've got the gun, I'll do it."

"Are you going to shoot an innocent,_ pregnant_ woman in the head, Devon? Really?" I snarked, raising an eyebrow.

He gestured at her with a wild flick of his wrist. "Are you going to stab an innocent woman?"

` My expression darkened and I turned my gaze toward Carrie. "If we don't, Devon, she's going to wake up wondering what the hell had happened. She's not going to have any answers, and she probably won't even know she's carrying alien spawn. Then the pain's going to start, and then the coughing, and then she's going to die terrified. We _have_ to put her down, Devon."

"_Don't. . . . _Don't say it like that," he growled through clenched teeth.

Every moment we wasted arguing—every moment _he_ wasted arguing, the more likely she'd wake up. Then it would be even harder to do what was needed. I closed my eyes and took a steadying breath. Wolf would have already done it. Wolf would have already moved on.

_Wolf kills humans all the time_, I reminded myself. It wasn't supposed to be easy. Not for me, not for Devon. But I had to somehow make it easy.

How easy had it been for that police officer to shoot my friends and himself?

I opened my eyes, exhaled, and stole back my gun from Devon. He barked a protest, but I turned the barrel toward Carrie and fired once, twice. My jaw was so tight it hurt, and a shudder wracked my ribcage with each blow.

Devon stared at me, flabbergasted, and I set the gun on the counter. I struggled to free the extra clip I carried and set it down, as well.

"Your hands are clean," I remarked, giving him one last look before leaving out the back.

A body lay by the door, wearing a chef's apron. Cold air blasted me in the face as I shoved open the door; a bulb from above bathed me in light.

Vision blurry, I staggered into the night air and attached my blade to its strap. My head throbbed once and I bent over, my hands on my knees. Counting to ten didn't work. Taking deep breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth didn't work. Heat spread throughout my body despite the cold and I couldn't make out the litter sitting at my feet.

_They can spawn. That thing can spawn so many. No queen? What a joke._

_ Two lives ruined in one fell swoop. Woman and unborn child._

My legs wouldn't support my weight anymore. I lowered myself down to the pavement and clenched my eyes shut, holding back tears and gagging myself with repressed sobs.

The memory of gunfire echoed in my head, reverberating in my skull. Voices I thought I'd forgotten haunted me. The familiar taste of panic and fear soiled my tongue, bringing bile to rise in the back of my throat.

_"You didn't let me say goodbye!"_

_ "I'm sorry. It'll be quick."_

_Two shots, Michelle and Jake piled together on the floor. A third and the cop fell soon after, then__I was left alone in darkness._

I pressed my hands against the side of my head and took in noisy breath after noisy breath through clenched teeth. When I opened my eyes the monsters of my past weren't there. Somehow I managed to stand and straighten my spine. I gulped down air and looked around, distracting myself with angry thoughts.

_Should have checked for danger._

_ Should have told her to go home._

_ Shouldn't have kept her late._

_It should have been easier. It _has_ to be easier._

In the line of work Dixon assigned us, we weren't shooting at other people. We rarely shot at anything, mostly chased down leads and debriefed close encounter victims. Every now and again something would be hostile, but it was never other humans.

Of all the things, I thought back to the scientist, Mindy. I pictured her charred corpse in the lab and closed my eyes again, trying to drive the images away.

Different reasons. Different methods. Both necessary.

So why was it so _hard_?

Something touched my shoulder and I whirled around, throwing out a right hook. I didn't hit anything, instead Devon gathered my arms and held me until the fight drained from my limbs and I calmed down. He was looking at me with a grim expression.

My face was wet with tears I hadn't noticed. I brushed them away on my shoulder and opened my mouth to say something, but Devon pinned me against his chest, arms around me.

I stood there, shocked, but comforted by his warmth.

"I'm sorry I made you do that," he whispered.

All I could do was shake my head, not trusting my voice. I was rigid against him, then allowed myself to relax and I slipped my arms around him. I'd forgotten how it felt to be comforted, how healing a simple hug could be.

Devon held me as long as I let him, but I couldn't waste any more time. If there was anything I was good at, it was self-soothing.

And the best way for me to do that was to get active.

"There's a Dairy Queen over there," Devon said suddenly.

As his non-sequitur registered in my brain, I furrowed my brow and stared at him.

"What?" I asked, feeling dumb.

"Yeah, a Dairy Queen. Want to see if it's still open?"

He couldn't be serious. The thought alone that someone could be inside a fucking Dairy Queen buying a three dollar ice cream cone while I was outside chopping up aliens and killing a pregnant woman was ludicrous to me.

"What? No—no! We have to tell Wolf about this. He has to know they can breed."

"Right, gotta go find your boyfriend," he sniffed.

I smacked him for good measure and he rubbed the spot before saying, "Afterwards, then."

"Devon. . . ."

"_Afterwards_," he stressed.

Sighing, I dropped the subject and we gathered our bearings. We tried to follow where Wolf had gone in search of the other aliens, then I glanced up at Devon and straightened my belongings.

"Thanks, Devon," I murmured. He looked at me from the corner of his eye, then smiled.


	17. Never Enough

**Hello, readers!**

**I'm really very quite sorry for the wait! I got stuck for a long time trying to get some _Better Days_ edits done, but I think I've waited long enough and made you guys wait too long. D; So here's the new chapter! I'll try to be better about getting these chapters out in a timely fashion, but I'm still trying to do all of my edits for my fics and write chapters and go to work and spend time with my husband so it can be a little much for me sometimes!**

**But, I'll keep trying! Hope you guys like, let me know what you think! Though some of you may not be able to review again since I removed a chapter and posted this one, but who knows. Enjoy!**

**~ Crayola**

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Chapter Sixteen

Never Enough

"How're we gonna find your boy?"

I elected to ignore Devon's bait and said, "He went this way," indicating in the direction we were already walking.

"Okay great," he huffed, trudging after me along the sidewalk. "But we're gonna need a little bit more to go on than a direction. The guy's invisible. Can't just spot him in a crowd, though Lord knows he'd stick out like a sore thumb."

Rolling my eyes, I reached out and grabbed his shirt to drag him after me faster. It was the only lead we had, and we weren't going to get anywhere speculating. I knew Devon was trying to lead up to some convoluted plan to send everyone home, but I wasn't going to hear it. Not when I was so eager to meet back up with Wolf. Besides, it was getting late enough that people should be inside anyway.

If I was being honest, that wasn't the biggest problem. Being parted from Wolf, with xenos lurking about, left me anxious and feeling vulnerable.

"We need a plan, Nichole," Devon whined.

"Got one," I chirped. "Find Wolf."

"Brilliant. Wish I'd thought of it."

"Shut up."

Gunnison wasn't a huge town, but it would still take some time to find Wolf. We didn't get far, though, before Devon dug in his heels and brought us to a halt. I rounded on him, ready to tear him a new asshole, but he quelled my anger before I could.

He pointed to a group of boys, teenagers, loitering in a store parking lot across the street. "What could they be up to this time of the night?" he said.

I shook my head, jaw tightening. "Not a damn thing if I have anything to say."

Devon made a motion with his arms, but I was already marching toward the boys. A lecture was forming in my mind. I could be firm. Teenage boys were hard-headed and combative, but I would convince them to go home, to go lock themselves in their house where they'd be safe.

It was what they needed.

It was what _we_ had needed, all those years ago. When we'd decided to run off into the woods after mystery and adventure. Just one person telling us how stupid we were and it all would have been so different. One person to catch us in the act.

Maybe the police barrier and school assembly hadn't been enough, but if those cops had spotted us before we made it past them. . . .

Well, no use dwelling on the past.

"Hey! Boys!" I shouted once I was in earshot.

They turned at my voice and immediately squared their shoulders, their faces plastered with cocky grins—ripe for slapping off.

"Who're you?" one demanded, more muscle than brain. He was clearly the one in charge, and his two friends stood at his flanks. Only one was wearing a jacket, and I'd never understand why most men refused to wear a jacket. Devon was bundled up, but he could barely be counted as a real man most of the time.

Well, when it counts he really comes through. That's all I could ask from him.

Both of us presented our credentials and gave the three a few seconds to drink it in. "Agent Shain and Hart, FBI. You kids have any idea what time it is?" I said, tucking my badge back into my jacket pocket and making eye contact with all of them.

"Why? There's no curfew," the ringleader pointed out.

"There is now. Go _home_ and stay there," I commanded, forcing any last ounce of authority into my tone. "It's dangerous here right now."

All three shared glances and laughed. "Dangerous? Dangerous how?"

It was Devon who answered the short one's question. "We're not at liberty to discuss the specifics, but we have belief, beyond a reasonable doubt, that there's something out here. We've found two bodies so far, so please go home."

That seemed to be enough to diffuse some of their bravadoes. The leader uncrossed his arms and said, "Woah, what? Really?"

"Who?" his jacketed friend asked.

I met Devon's eyes and shrugged. He took that as the go ahead and answered. "The waitress and cook from that diner a few blocks away."

They stiffened and one asked, "Which waitress?"

Again Devon deferred to my judgment. I clenched my fists and dropped my gaze. I didn't speak, but her name seared my tongue.

_Carrie._

After a moment, Devon picked up my slack. "She uh, well. . . ."

The boys sensed our unease and correctly surmised the reason. They shared significant glances with each other and groaned. "It was Sue, wasn't it? She was pregnant?"

Our silence spoke volumes.

"Holy shit, no way."

"Who would kill a pregnant woman?"

My face burned and my nails dug into my palms. The shots I'd fired echoed in my mind. I could see her body jerk with each bullet.

_Me. _

_I would._

"You have to tell us more!" one of the boys demanded.

Their leader concurred. "Yeah, we can help hunt the guy down. They can't be anyone from town, right? A visitor?"

"We can't talk about it, and no way in hell are we going to contract teenagers," Devon scoffed.

"Just go home," I ordered; there was no fight in my tone.

But they were adamant. They insisted, almost to the point of shaking Devon until he allowed them to come along. They wouldn't let him get a word in edgewise.

"Just give us a clue! We can't let this baby killer get away!" the leader demanded.

Just when I thought I was going to lose it, Devon grabbed my elbow in a gentle grip and snapped at the three teens. "Go _home_, boys! _Now_!"

Though they hesitated at his severity, they kicked up the complaints tenfold.

Patience worn out, Devon raised his voice more. "If you don't get in your cars and drive home _right now_, I'll put all of you under arrest!"

When the two smaller ones were about to protest, The ringleader put his hands up in surrender.  
They glanced at him but backed down like the good lackeys they were. He said, "Alright dude, whatever. We'll leave. I got a pizza guy to beat the crap out of anyway."

"Excuse you?" I said.

Devon waved me down. "No, you're going _home_ and if I catch you boys out again, you will be arrested. So skedaddle, unless you want to call your parents from the holding cells and explain why you're in there."

I glowered as they scoffed and muttered more insults under their breaths, but they climbed into their cars all the same and drove off. The ringleader, as I could have guessed, hopped into the truck while the other two shared a smaller sedan. Their tires squealed as they peeled out, and we watched them head out into the night and turn a corner.

Once they were gone, Devon leaned in to speak to me. "Relax. You're fine. They're just a bunch of idiot kids who found out someone they knew was dead."

Lips pressed into a thin line, I brought my eyes up to meet his. My eyes burned, but I was better at keeping my emotions in check. Most of the time. I shrugged and folded my arms over my chest and said, "They're right, though. Only awful people kill pregnant women."

"You're not awful. That was a mercy killing, you said so yourself. She was as good as dead in a few hours, and it wouldn't have been pleasant," he crooned, hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah."

"So don't sweat it. If they knew the truth, they would understand."

Unconvinced, I said, "Maybe."

"Didn't you?" he retorted.

I looked up at him sharply, brow furrowed in confusion. He gave me a reassuring smile. "You told me once before, about your friends."

"Oh. . . ."

_Jess, coughing and wheezing. Clawing at her chest, crying about the pain. The blood—so much blood—_

"Yes, I understood," I murmured.

"It was very unfortunate that she was. . ._with child_, but you did what you had to."

"Sure. Can we go? And don't say 'with child' ever again."

He pursed his lips and glanced over his shoulder, chuckling dryly. "Yeah okay. But you know they're not going home, right?"

Of course I knew. My friend's and I had had ample warning that the woods were dangerous, but we didn't believe anyone. We'd still marched straight into the National Park to go hunting for the unknown. These boys had no reason to believe us.

No way to know what lurked in the shadows, watching and waiting for their chance to strike. They thought it was a serial killer and wouldn't be looking for monsters.

My jaw set and I swallowed the lump in my throat. "They're not going to listen to us."

He gave my shoulder a reassuring pat, but it didn't help. We'd given it our best, sure, but that meant nothing. They only hope they had now was the seed we'd planted. Maybe, just maybe, if they kept the thought of danger in the back of their minds, they'd be somewhat prepared.

_You weren't._

But I had to tell myself something. Anything to keep the worry and guilt from gnawing at me. I had to focus—those teens were on their own.

"So. . .what do you want to do?" he asked, trying to be nonchalant.

"We gotta find Wolf," I muttered.

As we turned to leave, though, I couldn't help it. The strong urge to follow them, to make sure that history didn't repeat itself. I had been presented with a unique opportunity: to fix the mistakes that I'd made, to make sure they didn't make the same ones.

To save those I hadn't been able to.

If I followed them, I could keep them safe.

Those thoughts stopped me from continuing forward. Devon realized a few steps later that I was no longer next to him and faced me, his brow pinched together. "What's up?"

"I. . .I think I changed my mind."

Hope flit across his face for an instance before he carefully controlled his expression. I thought maybe I'd imagined it.

"About what?" he asked with calculated neutrality.

"We should go after them," I said.

That glimmer of hope turned into relief and he walked back to me. "If you want."

_Anything to keep me away from Wolf, right Devon?_

He must have noticed the uncertainty in my expression because he gave me a reassuring smile. "We can go after them. I mean they were in a car but we're the FBI. We can just get one and go find out where they went. Should be easy to spot their cars."

It sounded all well and good, but Wolf was still out there somewhere, and we didn't know for sure where the teenagers had wandered off to. Maybe they had gone home.

But I didn't really believe that. The big one had said something about beating up a pizza guy.

Wolf was out there somewhere, fighting a growing hoard of those awful creatures by himself and I wanted nothing more than to find him and help him clean up the mess I'd been part of.

"C'mon," Devon said, trying to lead me across the street to a sitting car. "I'm sure we can figure out this hotwiring nonsense. How hard can it be? Pop out a panel, cross some wires, bam. We got ourselves a car."

Yup, anything to keep me from finding my alien. Ignoring the bitterness seeping into my mind, pulled away from his grip and said, "That sounds like a terrible idea."

"Which part?"

"The letting-you-near-electrical-components-in-a-vehicle part."

He snorted. "Well, fine. I'm sure we can find someone driving around and just take theirs."

All around us, the city went black as pitch and anything I was about to say died in my throat. Streetlights, buildings, intersections, housing—all dark within the blink of an eye.

I was plunged into a darkness so absolute, my eyes didn't have time to adjust. I went rigid next to Devon, my breath hitching in my chest, and I grabbed his arm to make sure he didn't go anywhere. My heart stuttered and any coherent thoughts fled from the encroaching void. I was frozen until Devon's voice cut through my fear and pulled me back.

"Well, what the hell did that?" he scoffed, squeezing my hand to assure me.

Though my knees shook and hands trembled, I pushed it all away into the recesses of my mind and worked through it with a few deep breaths. "I'll give you one guess."

Devon groaned audibly. "The whole _city, _though?"

"There has to be a power plant somewhere, I'll bet he's there."

The teens would have to take care of themselves for now. I grabbed Devon's arm and dragged him two blocks until I found what I was looking for—a group of people on the street stopped to talk about what had happened.

"Nichole, what are you gonna do?"

"Don't you know?" I said. "It was your idea."

Before he could respond, I let go of his arm and engaged the closest person: a woman standing next to her bronze hatchback. I whipped out my badge and held it up as I shouted, "Ma'am, FBI. I'm commandeering your vehicle for official business."

Her stare was wide-eyed and her jaw bobbed in surprise.

My partner hissed in my ear. "Nichole, we can't actually do this."

"These badges say otherwise," I muttered in response. Louder, I addressed the woman. "Is your car functioning and does it have gas?"

Finally, she managed to condense a response. "What? Yes. I mean. . .half a tank?"

"Perfect. We'll return it to you later, you have my word," I said, gently moving her aside and hopping in the driver seat. "Can you tell me where the power plant is?"

Devon pointed above the buildings to the distance. "I'll bet it's that way."

I followed his gaze to a glow on the horizon, outlining the trees and hillside with an orange halo.

"Ma'am," I snapped. "Which road do I take?"

She gave me brief directions to the outskirts of town. I had the gist of it so once Devon was seated, I backed out of the circle of civilians and tore off toward the fire. Devon barely had enough time to close the door before it was taken off by a mailbox.

"Woah, Nichole, relax!"

"I am relaxed," I said, my jaw tight and teeth grinding.

He buckled his seatbelt and shot me a glare. "You have no intention of returning this woman's car, do you?"

"Does it matter?"

With a huff, Devon crossed his arms and slouched in his seat to pout. "You may not have any intention to live on Earth after all this, but someone's gonna have to pay for this lady's car when you wreck it or something mowing down aliens."

I rolled my eyes. "I wouldn't do that, their innards are acidic and would eat this car."

"This isn't very practical. And she lied. This car only has a _quarter_ of a tank."

"Now _you're_ the one that needs to relax, Devon," I said.

"What happened to going after the kids?" he complained, refusing to look at me.

At first, I didn't answer. I thought that would be obvious. As much as I wanted to make sure something like what happened to me didn't happen to another set of teens, Wolf could be in danger. Somehow I doubted it, but the thought was still there. I owed him more than I owed some random kids.

If it came down to Wolf or a stranger, I'd always pick Wolf.

And my future was with him, not with the town or those living within it. It wasn't even with the FBI after all this.

_What about with Devon?_

My fingers tightened on the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. I wasn't sure where the thought came from. Yes, I'd been considering trying to convince Devon to come with me. The thought of having at least one other human to commiserate with out in the cosmos was appealing. And Devon was my only friend, the only person I trusted. He'd helped me through so much, and was an asset in any situation. I wanted to keep the dream team together.

But the stray thought wasn't about that. It had more implications behind it, implications I didn't want to consider or think about.

The angry silence spanned between us but grew increasingly more awkward. Neither of us could stay irritated at the other long, nor did we want to be the first to break it. So we sat quietly, pretending to stew and brood.

I decided to be the bigger person and spoke first.

"I'm sorry, Devon," I started with a sigh. "I just need to get to Wolf. The best chance this city has is if we can help Wolf clear the infestation."

"Sure," he replied, trying to sound blasé. Instead, he came off as mopey.

A moment later he said, "You don't have to lie, Nichole."

There was no accusation in his tone, no anger. He was trying to open a dialogue. I appreciated it but still played dumb. "Lie about what?"

"About why you want to go after him."

"And what do you think is my reason?" I muttered.

Devon said, "You're worried about him."

Rolling my eyes I shot back, "I'm worried about a lot of stuff. You know that's my thing."

"Is it, though?" came his retort. "I mean you can be kind of squirrely sometimes, but I've never seen you this worried before. Scared, maybe."

"I don't get scared!"

Even without looking I could feel his incredulous stare burning into the side of my face. When I made it clear I wasn't going to look at him, he finally spoke. "You hide it well, Nichole, but I've been hanging out with you long enough to know what you look like when you're scared."

"Is there a point to this, Devon? Because I would love to know where you're going with it."

He was silent for a long time, then turned away to look out of his window. "Nowhere, I guess. I just. . .you had this whole thing going. Been. . .keeping this huge secret from me. All this time. I'm a little, uh, a little hurt, I guess."

I loosened my grip on the steering wheel and exhaled all my leftover frustration before speaking. "I'm sorry about that, I really am. But it's not like I could tell you I was an alien sympathizer."

"Yeah, I guess not." He there was doubt there, wavering in his voice.

"I'm sorry I kept it from you, up until he was trying to choke you to death," I said with some reluctance. "I should have known I could trust you."

Though he said nothing, he shifted a little taller in his seat, some of his pride returning. Devon said nothing for another few minutes, just bathing in my apology. It was starting to grind on my nerves again until he said something.

"Well, I mean, probably not right away," he said.

"What?"

"Trust me, I mean. Like, that's definitely one of those things you kinda got wait for the seventh or eighth date to mention. Might scare someone off on the first date."

I groaned. "Dates, Devon?"

"It's an analogy! I'm just saying, if you led the introductions with it I probably would have turned you in straight away, but y'know after a couple years of teaming up you might've been able to trust me," he pointed out, his regular demeanor returning.

"Right," I murmured, unable to be as candid as he'd like.

It wouldn't have mattered how long I knew a person. That wasn't just something you mentioned in passing. Had we never been in this situation, I couldn't convince myself that I would have told Devon about Wolf. That I was going to leave—_maybe_ leave.

In fact, I hadn't even convinced myself that I was going with him until I'd punched that signal and called him to me.

That was the moment I'd known.

"It's just the one alien, right?" Devon said, breaking my line of thought.

I glanced at him and pulled off the road. "What?"

"That you sympathize with."

At last, I managed to force out a terse snicker. "Yes, Devon. It's just the one alien. Well, one species of alien. I'm not fond of the other species I've run into."

Devon smirked. "Yeah, I'm finding myself not very fond of them either."

I opened my mouth to say something, but something caught my attention from the corner of my eye. I turned my head in time to see a moving shadow leap at us. I didn't have enough time to react before the thing landed on top of the hood. The engine sputtered and the front of the vehicle dipped forward. At the same time, I instinctively slammed on the breaks, nearly flipping us over in the process.

The ink-black alien screeched, but paid us no heed and hopped off the car. Silently, it disappeared into the woods and headed back toward town.

The trunk of our car rocked back to the ground once its weight was removed, tossing us around the cab like dolls. I hadn't put on my belt, but the airbag had deployed and softened some of the blow. My arms hurt like hell from bracing myself and being pummeled by the airbag, though. That was definitely something I was going to feel later.

However, Devon wasn't so lucky. He had his belt on, but no passenger airbag. Either the car didn't have one, or it had malfunctioned.

"What we hit?" he moaned. He was leaning back in his seat, his eyes closed and hand to his head. I could barely hear him over the blaring horn, and I cut the engine to stop it.

"I don't know. Are you okay?" I coughed. For some reason, I couldn't quite catch my breath.

His brow was bleeding, and it seemed like his eyes were having trouble focusing. He kept blinking and squinting. I took a sharp breath and looking out the dashboard, but remembered that the xenomorph had gone. Glaring, I left Devon where he sat and climbed out, hand on the hilt of my blade just in case there was more where it came from.

Something did come out from between the trees—but I recognized Wolf in time and relaxed.

He stopped short and trilled, his head cocked to the side.

Behind him, the glow from the burning power plant stood out against the sky. Against the dark storm clouds, black and gray smoke billowed from the raging fires in the distance.

"I leave you alone for fifteen minutes and you blow up a power plant?" I remarked.

Wolf harrumphed and motioned toward the car and my chest. I pulled a face and gingerly touched where he'd pointed, wincing. I hated and appreciated the fact that he could see every injury—not that I could easily hide the wheeze in my voice, anyway.

Still, I huffed at his retort. "This was those stupid parasites, not me."

Growling, he waved his hand at the glow and played the same phrase back at me.

"Yeah, okay."

"Hey," Devon slurred from inside the car. "I'm stuck."

"Devon!" I gasped, turning and jogging back to the car. I'd left my door open and I flung myself back inside. "How's your head? I'm sorry, the xeno must have been running from Wolf."

"Well, he's a scary guy," Devon said.

"You're bleeding," I pointed out.

He hummed and grimaced. "Head hurts. Smacked it against the window."

Still inside, I turned to ask Wolf for help only to find him missing. A couple seconds into looking for him, the car door on Devon's side was wrenched from its moorings. He yanked Devon's belt from the panel and Devon nearly tumbled out. However, Wolf grabbed him and stood him upright.

"Careful!" I said, hurrying around to the other side of the car.

Wolf passed him to me with a dismissive rattle.

"He'll be okay?" I asked. His response was the same rattle, repeated with more emphasis, and I sighed with relief. "Hear that, Devon? You're gonna live."

My partner rubbed the side of his head and glanced at his fingers. "Woo-hoo."

Even though he was a little shaky on his feet, Devon could still stand on his own and he remained upright when it came to walking. I decided to keep an eye on him anyway. Under normal circumstances, I would have sent him away to get treatment, but we didn't have time to go to the hospital and drop him off.

I'd had worse when last Wolf and I had been together, so I was certain Devon would be able to handle a cut. Maybe a minor concussion. . . . If not, Wolf would have said something. I had to believe that. If Wolf said he was okay, he was okay.

Already the big brute was crashing through the woods, chasing after the xenomorph that had destroyed our ride. For a second I felt a bit of remorse, thinking how easy it would have been to go back to town with the car, but the faint trail of smoke rising from under the hood told me that wasn't going to happen. It probably wouldn't even turn over.

The mental image of having a giant alien gladiator in a hatchback was a little too comical, anyway. Would he even fit?

"Let's go, Devon, he's on the trail."

"That lady's gonna be so disappointed," Devon lamented, his gaze cast toward the car.

I took his hand and tugged him onward. "She'll get over it when she realizes it helped us stop an alien infestation."

We hadn't driven far from the town when the alien had totaled our vehicle, and the subsequent adrenaline of that carried us after Wolf. It amazed me when I stopped to think about it. Even after being out as long as we had been—maybe a little shorter, since his travel was likely uneventful—he pushed on with seemingly limitless energy. No breaks or food, on the hunt for hours and hours on end. Devon was right, he was practically a machine.

A machine that could bleed.

Even in the dark, I could see his bright, almost fluorescent green blood trailing from his hip down his leg. It drew my eye in the dark and I almost lost my footing. I'd been so concerned about Devon that I hadn't stopped to consider that Wolf might also be hurt.

"Wolf—Wolf!"

He chittered at me but didn't stop his progress toward town.

Growling, I put on a burst of speed to catch up with him, though it meant leaving Devon behind by a few paces. He was starting to find his second wind, though, and his gait had evened out some. I pulled out in front of Wolf to take a better look at his wound.

"Oh my god, Wolf you gotta treat that."

It looked like he'd been pierced by something wide, all the way through to the back. The puncture bled from both ends and showed no sign of stopping. I reached out as if to touch it, but thought better of it and withdrew my hand.

Wolf didn't slow, but he did glance down at the wound. He chattered away my concerns.

Though I didn't quite believe he was okay, I fell back to check on Devon all the same. My partner was still plodding along and gave me the thumbs up when he caught me looking. We weren't quite sprinting, the woods wouldn't allow it, but we were still making good time.

_He's not even limping or anything,_ I thought to myself as I watched Wolf's back. How was I supposed to keep up with that?

Did he even feel pain?

At the edge of the woods, we heard screams echoing through the trees and stopped. They were faint, as if deep in the woods. We waited to see if they moved closer, but instead, the shouting receded, heading toward the power plant for some reason. When I listened closer, the sound of sirens wafted over on the wind.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I inhaled my way into a coughing fit, my lungs already strained from the jog and the crash.

Those were the shouts of someone who was under pursuit. The fading cries took a sudden shift, replaced by the voices of my friends as we sprinted through the National Park, praying and hoping we made it to the police before we were caught.

I reached for Devon as Wolf continued his own hunt. "Keep up, please," I said.

Jess' betrayed look pierced me through the heart and I had to suppress the desire to take Devon's hand. To make sure I didn't leave him behind.

A few moments later, the trail brought us to a high school offshoot building. Chlorine singed my nostrils and we slowed to a walk, favoring stealth over speed now. We came around a corner to the front of the building and found something waiting for us.

Inside my chest, my heart pounded. My steps faltered. There were cars parked in the front, and I knew who they belonged to. Devon's breath staggered, and I knew he'd realized it too.

We said nothing, electing to sneak along the side of the building while Wolf activated his cloak.

It was too dark inside the pool house for me to see, but I was certain there was something moving around. I edged around to pull open the door for Wolf, even though I was sure he'd know how to work it. I didn't want to risk him just jumping through the glass or something.

Stupid macho alien.

The air shimmered as he passed the threshold, then I lost him in the dark building.

Once my eyes adjusted, I stopped cold only a few feet into the building. Devon bumped into me but had the presence of mind not to say anything while a xenomorph crouched nearby, hunched over a bloodied and limp body. It kept striking with its second jaw, unaware of the three of us.

My pulse thumped in my throat. I didn't breathe. When my vision blurred, I saw corpse upon corpse, decorating the walls of the ship. I saw Anderson, Simmons, all of the nameless military and police forces. My classmates—Michelle—Jake.

Jessica.

Movement drew my eye to the pool, where another body bobbed and floated. A dark patch of pool water spread from the corpse—blood from a fatal wound.

It was clean enough that I recognized the jacket the short teenager was wearing. One of the three we'd sent home. One of the three we knew weren't going home but didn't pursue anyway. That I chose to abandon in order to find Wolf.

Devon glanced at me, but I ignored his scathing look and allowed myself a small bit of satisfaction when Wolf dispatched the feasting alien. It was a hollow victory.

More casualties.

Something inside me pulled tight—a hair-thin thread. If it pulled any tighter, it would snap. I clenched my fists and took a deep breath, counting to ten, while Wolf pulled the bodies into the pool and readied his concoction. He was no nonchalant about it. Business as usual. Death was a part of our life now. I couldn't let myself be bogged down by every loss.

In his line of work, _taking_ a life was going to be common.

I needed to be accustomed to it now.

So why was my chest so tight? Why were tears burning in the back of my eyes as I watched those two teenagers boil out of existence at the bottom of a blood-filled pool? Why did Devon's scornful glare threaten to push me over the edge?

Closing my eyes, I took one last deep breath.

_ Be like Wolf. Unfettered and strong. You can do it._

Opening my eyes, I walked toward Wolf without turning my head even a millimeter toward Devon. If I did, I would lose all of my carefully constructed composure.

"What next?" I asked.


	18. Moving Forward

**Hello, readers! **

**Sorry for the wait! Hopefully it wasn't too long this time. I'm starting to get better at my time management, so hopefully I can start posting semi-regularly. I really need to get working on the next _Ask Not the Sparrow_ chapter but I'm kinda blocked with that right now, and I still have _Phantasm_ edits on top of all my other life stuff. **

**But! That's all moot. Here's the chapter! Enjoy!**

**~Crayola**

* * *

Chapter Seventeen

Moving Forward

Wolf glanced at me, then took a look around the immediate area. The pool had turned into a volatile cauldron, the water bubbling violently and creating a noxious mist of vapor that swirled at our feet. Whatever the chemical was that Wolf used to dissolve evidence into nothing, it didn't seem to get along with the shit they used to keep the pool clean.

In a matter of seconds, Devon and I were coughing. The mist made my eyes water, but I didn't dare rub at them. Wolf grumbled to himself and took me by the arm and pulled me down a hallway. He stopped long enough to make sure Devon was following, then let go of me.

"Thanks," I murmured between mild wheezes.

He huffed in response.

Devon sulked behind me, and I didn't blame him. In all the years we'd been together we'd never suffered casualties like this. Some idiot every now and again got themselves killed from their own stupidity, but nothing like what the xenos did to people when they weren't capturing them.

Not even I'd seen that until I stepped into the cockpit of the jet. But I'd seen the aftermath of a chestburster. It had given me a bit of a buffer.

I couldn't even hold it against Devon if he was blaming me for those teens' deaths.

I'd fucked up. I'd done that so many times it was a simple matter for me to figure out.

Wolf, however, was unfettered by it all and I tried to mimic his stoic strength. Devon would get over it eventually when he realized there was nothing we could have done short of going out of our way to follow and arrest those boys. And me. . .just another thing to stick in the vault.

Perhaps, if our timing had been right, we could have killed the drone before it managed to sink its claws into them. Maybe not. Maybe—

The maybes were endless.

_Hindsight is always 20/20,_ I told myself. There was no way we could have known or guessed that Wolf would have made it out of that power plant alive. That he would have found his way to the high school where we could have met him.

We had no way of knowing, for certain, that the boys _weren't_ going home. They could have never met with a drone at all. The chips had fallen where they had, and that was it.

It had been my decision and I was going to live with it.

_Just add it to the list of things-Nichole-did-wrong-that-got-someone-killed._

We were following a trail of muddy blood that led us through the halls of the pool to the locker room. I stopped short and Devon gasped behind me, taken surprise by yet another scene highlighting the xenomorph's brutal nature. The lockers were painted with the kid's blood, the bench before them slick with gore. A large splatter decorated the window above the lockers, which was cracked open.

He'd tried to escape through the window, that much I could surmise. The other one clearly had never made it out of the pool. I briefly wondered if the screams we'd heard on the way down from the power plant were somehow related, but my attention was grabbed by something else.

Devon had fallen silent and stood in the doorway, unmoving.

For the first time since entering the stupid school, I glanced over at him. He had his arm up over his face but was slowly lowering it. The color had drained from him. I wished I could share in his shock, but this was all becoming far too familiar for me.

Wolf checked for anyone—or thing—else in the locker room, then turned to leave. I brushed past Devon and put a hand on his shoulder for comfort, but he shrugged me off.

His rejection stung, but I let him be. I followed after Wolf, letting Devon brood.

*:･ﾟ✧

After a short walk where Wolf seemed to be on the trail of something only he could see, a loud siren started up. My muscles went taught, but it wasn't the sound of police sirens bearing down on us. It was something else, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"Devon, is that. . . ?"

"They're evacuating," he confirmed. "About time."

As if to prove his point, we soon heard distant shouts, and the roar of engines as cars started. Wolf paused just long enough to consider his options. I knew that neither of us liked the idea of the infection spreading further than the town, but I remained silent. After a moment's thought, he took a detour into a cemetery.

Wolf staggered, but continued as if nothing had happened. I was about to protest and demand he stop to treat the ugly wound on his side, but the prompting was not needed. He picked out a choice tree and jumped up to a level branch about two stories up and sat in it.

"Where can I learn how to do that?" Devon muttered, peering up the tree.

_So he's speaking again._

"Same place he learned how to drop me," I harrumphed in response.

Above, Wolf chattered an admonishment, but I waved him off. One day he'd realize I was only being salty and didn't really hold it against him. I was transfixed on watching his blood create a trail down the trunk as he prepared his medical kit and flushed the wound of debris.

Though I sometimes forgot, Wolf had his limits, too. However high they were. We would have to wait and figure out what to do about the evacuation until he caught his breath and tended to himself.

"This is a bad idea," I intoned, looking around.

"What is?" Devon asked.

I motioned toward the street and the direction the evacuation siren was coming from. "This. Getting all those people out of their homes. Drawing all of them out—it'll just bring those parasites out in full force."

A light flickered in my mind and I stopped for a moment. There was something that I had to tell Wolf. . .what was it?

"Ah shit. . .you're probably right. But that's good for us, right? If those things are out in the open, we'll be able to kill them easier," he reasoned. "I mean, your buddy there has his big weapons, you've got your knife, and—I guess I can pistol-whip 'em to death."

His humor was back, so that meant he was coping at least.

For a moment I considered asking Wolf to give Devon something other than a small handgun but held my tongue. It had been like pulling teeth to convince him to give _me _something.

And he'd sort of kind of _liked _me at the time. He had made it clear how he felt about Devon.

We'd just have to find him something. Place like Gunnison up in the mountains, it had to have some camping or hunting supply stores. Even Wal-Marts nowadays had a section like that in them. They had to have some knives or higher-gauge weapons lying around somewhere.

A man shouted to someone nearby and I went rigid, listening carefully. I couldn't quite make out the words, but shortly after I thought I heard a familiar squeal, but it was drowned by the siren.

"Shit, can't he fix himself up any faster?" Devon muttered, looking about as wound up as I felt. I didn't answer, but I wanted to press on, as well. The short reprieve was welcome, but the monsters were out now and the storm was about to break. Lightning flashed occasionally, bathing us in light, and thunder rumbled.

The numbers didn't quite add up in my head. How many were there running around now? There had been a handful in the sewers, one dead. . . . I had no way of knowing.

_Gotta tell Wolf. . .what? About what?_

Above us, Wolf muffled a howl and I shot him a disapproving look. "Rub some dirt in it, you'll be okay," I told him.

Wolf snorted and grumbled to himself. My idioms were lost on him again, but I didn't bother telling him I hadn't meant it literally. I had been concerned about the mysterious puncture, but now it seemed like it was more of an inconvenience. Even then, he'd lived through his spaceship crash-landing on Earth. The injury was probably nothing.

"How's your head?" I asked Devon.

He gingerly touched the cut above his eyebrow and winced. "Just a headache." He shrugged.

It was then that I remembered. The stray thought hit me and I almost climbed up in the tree to tell Wolf but knew that wasn't going to end well and sufficed to call up to him. "Wolf! Wolf that thing—the thing from the sewers."

Wolf was finishing with packing up his kit and looked down at me with his head cocked.

"Somehow it—Devon and I saw it _impregnating_ someone," I explained, earning a surprised chuff from Wolf. "With. . .I don't know, three, maybe four, embryos. All in one shot."

Devon nodded. "Ah, yeah. It was pretty nasty."

As if trying to digest what I'd told him, Wolf gave me a long and impassive look, holding still as a statue all the while. When he had nothing to say, I continued. "I don't know how many people it's impregnated, but we could be looking at a lot more of those. . ._kiande amedha_ than we thought."

A few seconds after I said that, Devon started next to me and I whirled around, ready to fight off whatever had spooked him.

However, he let out a noisy breath and shook his head. "God damn—it's my phone."

"Jesus, Devon," I groaned.

Up in the tree, Wolf put his shoulder cannon back into resting position. My damn partner had almost gotten himself shot.

"It's Hassan," he said.

I scoffed. "Well, don't answer it. He's probably just going to complain. That sheriff probably called someone and now he's mad."

"I'm gonna answer it."

"Devon—"

"What's up, Joseph?"

_Joseph? _I couldn't help but pull a face. I huffed and left Devon to deal with my former boss and stepped away for the moment to see if I could figure out what Wolf's plan was. He was standing on his tree branch, looking out over the road. Horns were blaring as everyone made a mad dash to leave town. I pressed my lips into a thin line and sighed.

"You can't actually be serious—"

Devon clamped his mouth shut and listened to Hassan yell at him with a taut jaw. Every now and again he tried to slip a word in edgewise, but Hassan was on a tirade. I couldn't make out the words, but his voice carried from the receiver.

"Sir, I don't see why that's necessary! What? No I-I mean. . .but. . . ." He groaned and looked about ready to toss his phone. "We could set up a checkpoint! Get an x-ray machine or—"

Wolf jumped down from his perch and stood next to me, his head cocked.

"He's talking to our boss," I said, though I was sure he probably didn't care.

"How many?" Devon said. He glanced over at me and I shrugged. "Nichole, how many xenos?"

I made a wild gesture and said, "I don't know, more than a dozen. I have no idea."

Huffing, Devon turned back to the phone to continue trying to placate Hassan. Wolf's patience ran out and he ushered me to keep going. I could barely motion for Devon to follow before Wolf was tugging me after him.

"Sorry," I muttered, checking to make sure Devon was following. He was still trying to negotiate with Hassan, but it sounded like it was coming to an end. And he was losing.

"Mommy, we left him!"

We all stopped and Wolf disappeared from next me, swallowed by his cloaking device. Two people were weaving through the tombstones, a mother holding the hand of her child.

"Call me if you hear anything new," Devon said, hanging up.

They spotted us and the mom made a beeline for Devon and I. Wolf tensed next to me and I stepped in front of him before he could do something we'd all regret. I met the woman halfway and she grabbed my arm with her free hand.

"Go, go! We have to go!" she panted.

"Mommy, what about Daddy?" the little girl whimpered.

Devon stood by my side, glancing back at where I thought Wolf was maybe standing. He asked her, "Are you being chased, ma'am?"

She looked between the two of us, her mouth hanging open. For a moment she floundered, unable to decide what to tell us. As if the thought of telling someone else about the monsters running around would be too far-fetched.

"A monster got Daddy and she left him!" the girl blurted.

I bit my lip, but Devon came to bat and kneeled in front of the girl, smiling at her. "What's your name, sweetie?"

"Molly."

"Well, Molly, I'm sure your mom did what she could to keep you safe from the monster. Adults can take care of themselves, right? But she needs to take care of you," he said, mussing her hair and earning a resentful glower from the girl.

"You guys saw them, too?" the mother asked, glancing over her shoulder. Both of them looked like they'd been driven out of bed by the aliens.

The girl sniffed and asked Devon, "So Daddy'll be okay?"

Her mom glared at Devon and he fidgeted under her gaze. I managed not to blurt something insensitive and left him to damage control, instead addressing the mother.

"We're FBI, ma'am. Agent Shain and Hart. The city is being evacuated, so please find somewhere safe and head out of the city," I told her, ignoring her first question. I tried to see if Wolf was sticking around, disguising it as a quick look around as if for the monster. "Is the creature still following you, or did you lose it?"

If he was still there, he was standing perfectly still and I couldn't see even the faintest hint of his presence through the cloak.

"I don't know, but—FBI? Are you guys here because of these things?" she asked.

Somehow Devon managed not to make the little girl cry and stood up straight. "Well, we were trying to stop it from getting to this point, but yeah."

"Devon!"

He gave me a bewildered look. "What? Can't lie about it now."

"What are they?" the woman asked.

Before I could stop him, Devon bluntly said, "Aliens."

"God dammit!" I punched him in the shoulder.

Behind us, Wolf croaked, mirroring my anguish. The woman tensed and pulled her daughter close to her, but Wolf was being a good boy and remained invisible. At least I knew he was still hanging around for the time being.

The woman looked surprised but slowly relaxed. She was still watching behind us, and she seemed to believe we weren't under attack, if not alone. "Really? You're serious?"

"Aliens aren't real," the little girl huffed.

"But monsters are?" I snapped back, making her cringe against her mom. Devon sighed at me.

A new voice snarled off to our right. "Aliens, monsters, what's the difference? What matters is that they're killing people and it's the FBI's fault."

Everyone jumped and turned, but it was only a man standing off to the side. He'd been hiding behind a stone structure—some sort of family headstone the size of a dining table. Between his lips was a lit cigarette, and he was maybe forty years old.

"Now kindly shut up or leave!" he spat.

"Alright dude, let's go. We're _all_ leaving," Devon said, raising his hands.

"Mommy, who is that," the girl whimpered.

Her mother shushed her and crouched down at her level, whispering and cooing. I ignored them and watched the man with a critical eye: he was carrying a small pistol.

"I wanna go home!" the girl said. "I want to go back and get Daddy!"

The man lifted his weapon, and now Devon had seen it, too. He wasn't threatening us with it or aiming at anyone, but he was clearly on edge. He growled, "Shut her up!"

"Dude, relax," Devon commanded.

A familiar hum caught my attention. It was followed by three red beams of light. My blood ran cold as they swept up the man's shoulder as he ranted. Devon sucked in a breath and went rigid next to me, frozen in place. I did the first thing I could think to do—I swooped down in front of the little girl and covered her eyes with my hand just as Wolf fired.

"Get down!" Devon shouted, reaching out to the man.

But it was too late. Devon would never have made it, he was a solid five or six yards away still. Wolf's cannon barely managed to hide the sound of the man's head being obliterated and the splat of blood on the stone tablet next to him.

I released a shuddering breath and the mother stopped moving except to tighten her grip on her daughter, who was too scared to try to pull away from my hand. Her mother turned her around and pressed her into her chest, freeing me up. The body slumped over and I heaved the woman and her daughter up, pushing and guiding them toward the main street. "Go, go. Just go."

She was careful to turn around before she took her daughter by the hand and jogged off. I took Devon by the shoulders and shoved him toward them.

"Please go with them," I begged.

He turned toward me with what I can only describe is a calm fury. His eyes sparked and a line had formed in his jaw. A pressure formed behind my eyes and tears threatened to fall. I shook my head and opened my mouth to say something, but didn't know what words would fix it.

Devon took my hand, glared over my shoulder, and then dragged me at a run after the woman and her child. I turned my head to see if Wolf would follow, but couldn't spot his outline in the dark.

At last, I figured out something to say.

"He had a gun, Devon." My voice was barely above a whisper.

My partner didn't look at me, just continued to run after the mother and daughter. He said, "His finger wasn't even on the trigger, Nichole. The guy wasn't gonna shoot us, it was for the aliens."

"He didn't know, he was just. . .helping," I muttered. I didn't even believe my own words.

Wolf had chased down and killed the deputy, too. Devon hadn't seemed particularly upset at Ray's death. He'd carried on as usual, but that random guy just then. . . . I didn't quite understand. With Ray, I thought maybe it was because he'd witnessed Wolf and his technology. He'd needed to cover his tracks—but the guy, the guy hadn't seen. . . .

"I pretended not to be upset about Ray," Devon said suddenly, as if he'd been reading my mind. "Ray was at the wrong place at the wrong time and it was _my_ fault, so I couldn't be mad, but that. . .that was straight up _murder_, Nichole."

"No, he. . .he. . . ."

"Nichole, when are you going to get it through your head?" Devon hissed, stopped long enough to face me. "His kind _kills humans_. For _fun_. They hunt us down and mount our heads on their walls like we're _animals_. They might hide behind lies of honor and fair fights and shit, but they're just a bunch of _psychopaths _in the end_."_

I gaped at him, shaking my head slowly. My surprise turned to anger and I frowned at him. "You're wrong! He—I don't know what happened to that guy, but—but he had a gun, and he'd seen the aliens, and. . .and. . . ."

"Guys? Come on!" the woman called back to us.

We started after her again and she dragged her daughter toward some flashing police lights outside of a building. The rain started and quickly picked up, drenching us on the way to the doors.

"Devon," I started, motioning toward the civilians in front of me. "When they showed up, he didn't shoot _them_. He didn't try to kill _them_. Even after they made it clear that they had seen the aliens. It had to be because that guy had a gun, or. . .or something!"

When he couldn't immediately deny my logic, he merely sulked as we followed the woman to the building. Before she could rush in, Devon and I stopped her. Devon entered first, and I followed behind them. The bell above the door rang and I winced. If the sheriff's car outside was any indication, there were people inside. Who knew what else, though.

"Look, it's a hunting store or something," Devon muttered, indicating to the racks of guns and lanterns. The place was cluttered and dark, but there was a light source somewhere in the back.

"Hello?" the woman called. "Sheriff are you here?"

We shushed her and took a few more steps inside, letting the door close. Not ten steps in, we were confronted by a big shot with a rifle. The mother gasped and pulled Molly closer to her, while Devon and I immediately started berating the guy.

"Hey! Federal agents, put that thing down!" Devon snapped.

The guy looked at us but was quick to lower his firearm. "Are any of you hurt? Come in, there's a bunch of us, you'll be safe."

I scoffed but followed him just the same.

"Agents?" came the familiar voice of Sheriff Eddie Morales. He appeared from around a display, holding his own shotgun. "Thank god! I'd thought you both were dead after how we found Ray."

Devon's shoulders hunched and I grimaced. It was I who spoke first. "No, we uh. . .were separated during the search. We. . .we had no idea he was dead, though. We thought that he'd maybe gone back to town. Jesus. . .I'm sorry. . . ."

Eddie wiped his mouth and nodded. "It, it wasn't pretty. We found him—" He stopped and looked around at all those present, then swallowed. "Well, just take my word for it."

"Do you guys know what's going on? Who's attacking us?" a teenage girl asked.

One of the two associates piped up, "Which terrorist group is it?"

Together, Devon and I gave Eddie dubious looks. He grimaced and introduced us to everyone; Kelly and Molly, Dallas was the one who'd met us at the door, his brother Ricky, his friend Jesse, I recognized Dale as one of the boys we'd spoken to earlier, and the two associates were Earl and Scotty. Mrs. Benson was there, too, disheveled and tired-looking.

After introductions, Kelly said, "Agent Hart says it's aliens."

Everyone fell quiet and stared at the two of us. I glared at Devon, but he just shrugged. "Just telling them like it is."

"You. . . ," Eddie pointed at him, his eyes wide. "You were saying that earlier today!"

"Yeah, kinda."

"I thought it was a joke," Eddie muttered, sounding hurt.

Ricky said, "The thing. . .that got the others and attacked us at the school. It all makes sense. There's no way that thing was from here."

Suddenly, we were bombarded from all angles with questions that neither Devon nor I wanted to answer, and outside the rain only worsened. Thunder rolled and I put my hands up to stop them from talking over one another.

"Alright, everyone shut up. We can't answer all your questions, but if you want to get out of this alive, stop yammering and start stocking up. Prioritize high-gauge rifles and shotguns. Handguns aren't going to do much. If you find any machetes or other large knives, grab those. Always be aware of where everyone is, and do _not_ wander off by yourself," I commanded.

Eddie clapped his hands and nodded. "Agent Shain is right. Everyone who can, pick up a weapon. Anyone who can't, stay behind those who will."

Despite what I had just told everyone, Kelly picked up Molly and walked across the small store to set her daughter on a chair. I scoffed and caught Dallas' attention. He glanced over to them when I gestured and I said, "Go with them!"

He nodded, picked up his rifle, and quickly joined them.

Satisfied, I picked out a first aid kid and made Devon sit on a table so I could bandage the cut over his eye. My partner didn't argue and sat still while I cleaned some of the blood from the side of his face with peroxide.

"So I get this shit is probably classified," Dale said. I looked at him from the corner of my eyes as he continued. "But this would have been really nice to know before."

There was an accusation somewhere in his tone, but I ignored it. Not even Devon had anything to say. No words would fix what had happened or bring back those dead boys. A simple apology didn't cut it, all we could do was let him have his say if he needed it.

"Before?" Ricky echoed. "Before what?"

Dale leaned on the table, a pile of ammunition between his hands, and thrust his chin in the direction of Devon and I. I'd finished with Devon and he was up on his feet again, picking out a weapon. Dale said, "Before we showed up at the school to deal with your punk ass, these two came and told us to go home because it was _dangerous_ on the streets."

"So why didn't you go home?" Eddie demanded.

"We did tell you there had been deaths," Devon said through clenched teeth.

"What deaths?" Mrs. Benson said. The whole time we'd been there she hadn't said a single word, and I'd nearly forgotten she was even there.

Devon and I shared a look. "There were quite a few," he said.

Succinct, not usually something Devon was.

Aggravated, the teenager pointed an accusatory finger at us. "We were going to go home after we took care of some business, but we might have gone home sooner if they'd told the truth!"

The thunderous sound of a shotgun discharging interrupted any further conversation.


	19. Seeing Red

**Hello, readers!**

**What is this? Another update from Crayola in a semi-timely manner? It ALMOST seems like she's got her shit together. Heh, acting! Actually, I don't have much to say about this chapter. I feel a lot better about it after taking Citrine's advice on certain sections, so a big shout out to her for taking the time to look over my shit drafts and helping me mold them into something I'm not totally embarrassed to post! **

**Also, quick shout to Mincemeats on her special day! :D **

**Thanks as well to all those who reviewed and PM'd me! I'm always happy to talk about my fics, so if you have any questions or concerns feel free to let me know! :) Keep them coming, I love hearing from you all, whether it's critiques or praise!**

**~ Crayola**

* * *

Chapter Eighteen

Seeing Red

For a moment we tried to digest what we'd heard, and then Molly's screams of fear spurred us into action. Everyone clamored to pick up what weapons we had ready and scrambled toward the back of the store. Squealing chased away any immediate concerns I had that someone was shooting at Wolf.

"It's a trap!" came Kelly's shout as we neared. "Go back!"

Our group arrived in time to find Dallas on the floor, rope coiled at his ankles, and a headless xenomorph scant inches away from him, also prone. Behind the decapitated alien was the statuesque form of _my_ alien, staring us down. Eddie uttered a few choice expletives and Molly was whining, but I heaved a sigh of relief at his arrival.

"Go! Go!" Dallas called, stripping the rope from his legs and scrambling to his feet. Kelly left her daughter long enough to help pull him up, and then him, Ricky, Kelly, Eddie, and Molly ran for the door.

Devon grabbed my shoulder to pull me after them but I freed myself and made to join Wolf's side. I paused when the two employees ran around a glass display next to Wolf, handguns raised and ready to fire. Devon slid in next to me, then froze when he spotted them, too.

They were shaking, intoxicated, and had fingers on the triggers. I raised my hands to try to calm them, to maybe convince Wolf I had it under control, but before I could say anything, Wolf reacted in kind. He blasted them with his dual cannons, his impeccable aim taking their heads. Devon drew in a sharp breath and I reeled as if I'd been punched in the gut.

"Wolf!" I shouted in admonishment. "I had that under control!"

He huffed at me, then growled a warning at the same time Devon called my name.

Before I could try to figure out what they wanted, Devon slammed into me and we both hit the ground, tangled up in a rack of camouflaged jackets. My head smacked the side of the rack, filling my vision with stars, but I still saw the xeno drop from the rafters where I had been moments ago.

Another dropped on top of Wolf, but he threw it off. I saw no more than that and instead tried to unwind from Devon and the rack as the xeno stalked toward us.

Devon was free before me and swung his rifle up, discharging it twice in succession. The drone was close enough that both shots were point-blank. One hit its chest, and the other found its mark in its skull, blasting through the chitin. It dropped dead at our feet, and I was able to pull the rack down and stand up next to Devon.

I pat his shoulder and grinned. "Hey, you got one."

"Yeah, am I part of the cool kids' club yet?" he snarked.

Opting to ignore his obviously rhetorical question, I checked on Wolf, but he wasn't there anymore. Immediately I thought to look up, but he wasn't in my field of view.

"Where'd he go?"

"How should I know? Guy's more slippery than Batman."

More shouting came from near the front of the store and interrupted my response. The two of us wound our way around the displays, shoving aside anything that wasn't nailed to the floor.

"Get this thing off me!"

The voice sounded like one of the teens, but I couldn't pinpoint which one. After finally navigating to the front of the store where rain pelted against the front windows, I stopped short at the sight of a drone on top of one of the boys. He was on his back, and the creature was hunched over him with its tail held high.

"Hey!" I shouted at it with a wave of my arms. It wouldn't pay me any attention with a perfectly good victim already underneath it.

Devon dropped the muzzle of his shotgun and ran straight past me without pausing and, in a feat of grace and strength I hadn't thought possible for him, drop-kicked the xeno in the head. It squealed in surprise and went flying off who I now recognized as Dale, who Devon landed atop.

"What the fuck was that?" I shouted at Devon as I stepped around them. The drone writhed around on the ground for a second, but I didn't give it any time to recover. I was on top of it in seconds, driving my blade deep into its cranium. When it hit resistance in the form of the linoleum floor, I twisted and wrenched the blade free.

Though the drone didn't get back up, Devon and Dale did.

"Get out of here!" Devon shouted, shoving the kid toward the door. "Meet up with the others, we'll be right behind you."

Dale didn't have to be told twice. The door chimed on his way out, and Wolf dropped down next to us, scaring the shit out of Devon and giving me a near heart attack, as well. I gave him a smack for it; he responded with a harrumph.

Hissing drew us all to face the same direction. Perched on the front counter, a xeno uncurled from its crouched position, tail drawing away from its feet. It sized us up, lips drawn over its teeth.

Wolf growled and took aim with his cannon—he'd had two, but one was hanging uselessly from his shoulder now—and Devon cocked his shotgun. I brandished my sword, though I felt out of sorts without some sort of projectile weapon.

Fangs bared, the drone bent and its leg muscles coiled to pounce. Devon and I tensed, and Wolf chittered a warning. Not for us, but for the drone. It was outnumbered and outmatched.

But it didn't care.

Squealing, it launched at us from the counter with a powerful spring. Wolf caught it as it was airborne with his cannon. The drone crashed through the front window in a spray of glass and acid, landing outside in the rain.

We waited. Rain sluiced through the broken window and pooled on the floor. Outside the drone didn't get back up, and inside all was quiet. A few things clattered from their displays and we whirled around, but as all fell silent again we finally relaxed and dropped out guards for the time being. It was just the three of us—no xenos, no hybrid, no danger.

"Alright, let's go," Devon said, making for the door.

"I'm staying with Wolf," I called.

He stopped in his tracks and turned back. "_Still_? Nichole, he keeps killing people."

"In _defense_," I argued, though the words were beginning to feel hollow. "And besides, you know it's safer with him than it is anywhere else in this city and you know it. So, please, I would really like it if you stayed with us, too."

Devon wiped his mouth, then marched back toward us. "So, then we'll all follow those guys. If Wolf promises not to murder anyone else."

"Devon!"

"What? His body count is up to four now, that we _know_ of. There's a lot of missing time before we met up with him again near the power plant."

I rolled my eyes and decided to drop it. We didn't have the time to argue about Wolf's ethics. "Well I can't make him promise that, and after everything that just happened I don't think the others are going to be happy to see him."

"Well, we gotta go _now_ if we're going to catch up with them," he said, making a sweeping gesture out the door. "We have to find a way to get them out of the city before shit hits the fan."

"Aren't we already knee-deep in shit?"

After a deep inhale he said, "Hassan says they're going to order an airstrike."

For a moment, what he said didn't register. When it finally hit me, I started out the door, backing up to face Wolf. "Will you follow us?" I asked.

He nodded and applied his cloak. Satisfied, I turned and ran outside with Devon. We were instantly drenched after just a few minutes in the rain, but we kept running in the direction Devon had seen Dale take off.

"You decided to wait until _now_ to mention something?" I hissed at him.

"I was trying to come up with a plan before I mentioned it, so no one would panic. Then all that shit happened in there too fast," came his reply.

"Where are they?" I scoffed, deciding to move on. What was done was done. All we could do now was hurry and hope that we made it to them in time. They knew the city better than we did, so maybe they'd know a fast way out of it.

"They can't have gotten far on foot, not with that kid," Devon pointed out.

We ran a few blocks and found ourselves in the middle of an abandoned caravan of army-grade vehicles. My breath stuttered in my throat and I pushed away the gut-wrenching fear that came crashing back. The deserted camp—blood on the rocks—nightmarish creatures chasing us back down the mountain—we should never have been in those woods.

_Not now_, I berated myself, clenching my eyes shut and taking a few cleansing breaths.

Devon's voice interrupted my thoughts. "When Hassan called, it was because Eddie contacted the National Guard for help. He was upset that we let it get this far without calling him. They had to send out a team. . .this must have been that team."

"They had to have been ambushed," I surmised. I could remember Devon arguing with Hassan while Wolf tended his wounds. Had it been about the airstrike?

"How much time did you buy for us, talking with Hassan?"

He checked his watch, all the while we were jogging through the streets. "I didn't get much time at all. I wanted him to set up a checkpoint and have everyone looked over for infection, but. . .they're just gonna destroy this place."

"_When_, Devon?"

"I don't know! I had to end the call because that lady showed up!"

I put my hands up to ease him. "Alright, alright. Sorry. Where did those people go?"

The roar of an engine answered for me. Devon and I shared a look, then took off through the carnage until we saw a tank moving through the streets. It turned around a corner and I let out an irritated sigh, running my hand through my wet hair.

"Well, what now?"

"They need to know what the government has planned," Devon said, hands on his hips.

I sighed and shook my head. "The government probably doesn't want them to know."

"Yeah, well, fuck 'em."

Wolf landed next to us with a heavy thud, no longer in his cloak, and we jumped. I let out my breath and motioned to his shouldered weapon, which was making an awful whirring sound and clicking. I said, "Your thing's broken."

He yanked off the no-longer functioning cannon and discarded it, then detached the other one when the mechanism continued to make angry buzzes. He spent a short moment fiddling with it until he could use it as a handheld weapon. It charged up with a similar sound to the bomb he'd used for the airplane and then he fired a test shot into the ground.

"When do I get one of those?" I asked.

Holding it at his side, Wolf didn't answer my question and instead indicated down the road to the only well-lit building in the whole city. It was like a beacon in the night, and if I listened closely I could hear the faint sounds of angry xenomorph screeches.

"We're going there?" I asked.

Devon said, "That must be the hospital. It's the only place that would have power at this time, right? There's gotta be so many people stranded in there."

"Sitting ducks," I growled. "Let's go."

But Devon didn't move and I asked him what was wrong. He put one hand on his hip and rubbed his head with the other. "Does it even matter, Nichole? We can't. . .we can't save anyone anymore. Those people are gone and we have to figure out how we're going to leave the city."

Brows furrowed, I shook my head at him. "You—" I stopped what I was going to say and gave him a sympathetic look. "Alright. Then, what would you suggest?"

He wiped his mouth and walked over to us, but addressed Wolf. "Big guy, our government is going to wipe this place off the map. I don't know how much time we have, but it's not a lot. We need to think about getting out of here or else we're going down with this city. It should be enough to kill every last one of those things, so will you help us leave?"

Wolf considered Devon for a moment, then nodded.

My mind was still on the hospital. I was partially glad that we weren't going to head there: after spending so much time inside the one at Estes Park, I had avoided them like the plague unless absolutely necessary. I still remembered that half-conscious trip when I'd been airlifted—

The helicopter ride to the hospital.

_Well, shit._ _Looks like I have to go, anyway._

"We can still head over there," I pointed out, gesturing toward the building. "It should have a place on the roof for a helicopter to land. Wolf can call his ship there and we can go. We'll never make it if we try to run back into the mountain."

"Wait, why do we have to take his ship? Why can't we take the helicopter?" Devon whined.

I crossed my arms and gave him a deadpan look. "Do you know how to fly one? Besides, there's no guarantee it'll still be there."

Even in the dark, I could see him blush. "Guess you're right, let's go."

Rolling my eyes, I took off to the hospital. Wolf didn't make himself invisible as he came with us. I couldn't read his emotions, but he seemed unbothered by the fact that someone was going to try to blow us all up.

*:･ﾟ✧

Upturned wheelchairs. Abandoned cars. An ambulance was parked right up against the Emergency exit, but there was no one inside. The hospital was quiet and deserted. As if everyone had evacuated already—or were all dead.

Wolf took the lead, following a trail that only he could see. He moved with swift assurance, but not out of urgency. Devon and I kept vigilant for any flanking drones or warriors, but the emergency room parking lot was devoid of any life but the three of us. I wanted to hope that they had all evacuated, but it didn't matter.

The government wasn't worried about evacuation, only eradication and containment.

We reached a set of stairs around the side of the building. Wolf leaped right over the railing to the top, leaving us two humans to take the stairs. Devon muttered something salty under his breath, but I ignored it. At this point, I was used to Wolf being Wolf.

As Wolf examined the front doors for a second, Devon and I finished climbing the short set of stairs to stand behind him.

Devon, in all his snarky glory, started to say, "It's a pull door, you just gotta—"

Electing to ignore my partner, Wolf strode forward and kicked down the entire glass panel with a solid blow. Glass showered the entranceway and Wolf hurried in, scanning for danger, and we stepped in after him. Underneath our feet, the glass crunched.

"'Look at me, I'm so big and I kick down doors for fun,'" Devon mocked, complete with sassy head wobble and deep voice.

"And what about you?" I shot back. "You _drop kicked_ an alien."

He shrugged, but I could see his smug grin. "Someone had to save that kid."

We fell back into silence as we navigated the cluttered halls and up a set of stairs. Two or three floors up, the hospital _changed_.

The sudden humidity hit me like a truck, stifling my breathing until I could adjust. We had followed Wolf into an operating room; the floors were sticky with half-dried slime and blood. Outside the observation window, I could see that they'd started to make a nest. Already the walls were hardened with resin in some sections and we could see the end of the construction by the elevators.

"I don't like this," Devon muttered, standing at the door Wolf had already passed through.

I looked back at him and pressed my lips together. We shared a silent conversation, then I leaned in the doorway to call to Wolf. "There should be more stairs this way. We have to get to the roof."

Wolf rattled his understanding but took another couple seconds to examine the body on the operating table. The high-grade lights were still on but smeared with blood. In the half light, I could barely make out that the body had a gaping hole in the stomach, but I wasn't sure if it was from the half-finished operation or because of the hybrid.

Though I didn't enter the room proper, I stood at the threshold with Devon shuffling behind me impatiently. Again I addressed Wolf. "Was it the hybrid? It's been. . .using people to mass-produce soldiers. I don't understand how it could—"

Before he could turn back, an alien popped out from where it had been hiding between some machinery and slammed into Wolf, sending him through the window and out the other side. Devon immediately joined my side and I started rushing to Wolf's aid, only to stop when the xeno turned—the hybrid. It regarded me for a moment and then stepped back so drones could move in on Wolf.

And it marched toward me with determined, heavy strides.

"Devon, help Wolf!"

"He's not the one who needs help," Devon argued, shoving me aside and opening fire on the hybrid with his automatic rifle. It squealed and fell back with a few new wounds, saved from death when a nearby drone leaped to shield it. The heavy-duty bullets pierced its hard exoskeleton and it fell dead, but the hybrid successfully retreated.

I rounded on Devon, but before I could say anything he spoke first. "We don't have time for you to slash shit up. Grab your boyfriend and let's _go_."

As if on cue, a xenomorph flew through the OR in a spray of acid, blown apart by Wolf's now-handheld cannon. My irritation at Devon forgotten, we shared a glance and then stepped over the dead bug at the entrance and to the hole in the wall.

More acid sprayed through the opening and we stopped, waited for a beat, then continued. We were a bit more careful peering through the broken window. Wolf, however, was standing over a drone, punching it in the face. Devon and I saw no immediate reason to join in, so we watched as he removed another blue vial from his person and shoved it down the thing's throat.

The body roared like boiling water and fell still as the liquid went to work and dissolved the xeno from the head down.

"Not immune to that acid, are ya?" Devon spat.

Down the hall, more screeches sounded. Two more appeared through the adjacent corridors, crawling on the modified walls. The section we were in was completely metamorphosed into the perfect xenomorph nest, and I wondered how long they'd been in the hospital already.

Wolf reacted in kind to their appearance, drawing two of the bladed disks that he'd shown me in the airplane. With a few flicks, he extended the sharp blades and hurled the weapons down the hall.

Then I heard the shouting.

Devon removed his jacket and draped it over the edge of the window, covering the jagged remains of glass. He looked up as he heard it, too, and said, "Is that those guys from the shop?"

I started to crawl over the window, peering as far down as I could. Wolf's blade was ricocheting down the hallway, slicing through the two drones, and I saw movement at the very end—the sound of metal into flesh, a small child screaming. There was a body pinned against the wall.

"It hit someone!" I said.

"Who?" Devon demanded. "What did I say about murdering people!"

"Pretty sure it was an _accident,_" I spat back, halfway over the window.

Another drone showed up behind Wolf and he turned to deal with it. I finally managed to make it over the hole and stumbled when my legs protested but I kept myself upright. Devon followed behind me with a bit more grace.

A hail of gunfire interrupted my next words and I froze for just a second. Then Devon was yanking me away from the middle of the hall, throwing himself atop me.

Bullets ricocheted off Wolf's armor, creating brief instances of a single spark. He didn't immediately blow the one firing away, so I had to assume he was no longer armed. I shoved at Devon's shoulders and writhed underneath him, trying to free myself.

_"Ricky! _Ricky stop!" they were shouting.

"Devon, get off me!" I hissed. Louder, I said, "Cease fire, _cease fire_!"

My words were unheeded and the automatic fire continued, underlined by a constant, angry screaming. I finally shoved Devon off of me and scrambled up, cutting off the group of people trailing after the shooter. They shouted at me, but I ignored them.

Wolf was unmoved by the kid before him but distracted as he was by Ricky, he didn't see the drone that blind-sided him. It hit him like a truck and they both slammed through the elevator door Wolf was standing in front of, but there was no car. The empty shaft swallowed them up and my stomach plummeted with them.

"No!" I screamed.

Someone caught my hand when I tried to sprint and yanked me back. I rounded on who turned out to be Dallas, my blade flat against his chest. "Get _off _me!"

"Your partner!" he sputtered out, hands up and off his firearm.

Confused, I glanced over in Devon's direction and then did a double-take. He hadn't gotten up off the floor. He was still lying there, slumped on his side in the same position I'd left him after pushing him from atop me.

He'd pulled me out of the way, fallen on top of me. He hadn't moved when I'd tried to get him off. . .hadn't said anything. . .I didn't even notice.

I left Dallas against the wall and ran to Devon, hitting the ground next to him hard enough to jar my knees, but I hardly felt it. Carefully, I rolled onto his back and pulled his head into my lap. He groaned and I almost collapsed with relief.

"Devon? Devon c'mon," I said, patting him roughly on the cheek.

His eyelids fluttered. Satisfied that he was at least still alive for now, my hands roamed over his torso, looking for the gunshot wound or blood. There were no new injuries on his head so he didn't hit it when he fell.

When I pulled my hand away from his side, it came back soaked with blood. It started to shake and my heart thundered in my ribcage.

Dallas' voice reached my ears but sounded far away. "Ricky, what the fuck were you thinking?"

_Ricky._

Kelly showed up, kneeling on Devon's other side, and I didn't protest when she pulled him off of me and yanked up his shirt. I was staring at the blood on my hand, thick as if I'd dipped it in a bowl of the stuff. My gaze trailed to Kelly and her attempts to stem Devon's bleeding with a wadded up piece of cloth—he'd been hit through his side, just a few inches from center mass.

Red lined my vision and it blurred. A rage boiled inside me and I was on my feet, searching for Ricky, for the one who had tried to take Wolf and Devon from me.

He was standing near the elevator Wolf had fallen down, his likely-empty rifle lying on the ground. His brother was chastising him but I shoved passed, my hand white-knuckled on my blade. I didn't know my intentions, I had no plan.

But I was angry, and I had a really big knife.

"Hey—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—" Ricky stammered, taking a step back.

Before I could reach him and seek the revenge I was looking for, he was skewered on the end of a xeno's tail. The barb didn't quite make it through the front of his bullet-proof vest, making it jut out and strain against its straps, but it had gone clean through his back.

I stumbled to a surprised stop, and in a moment of bitter pettiness, lowered my weapon and did nothing as the Hybrid lifted Ricky off his feet.

"Ricky!" Dallas shouted. "Agent, move!"

The Hybrid turned her head to look at me, one of her slime-coated mandibles clicking against her skull as she hissed. I took a step to the side and Dallas peppered her with gunfire. She squealed and dropped Ricky, retreating back down the hallway and into obscurity.

With her gone and my vendetta sated for now, I left a twitching Ricky on the ground and returned to the window Devon and I had crawled through. I ignored their shouts and Kelly's accusations against me and grabbed Devon's jacket from where it was. Using the jagged remains of glass, I tore strips out of the material and quickly tied them around his waist, utilizing larger chunks as gauze.

We were in a hospital full of supplies, but what we didn't have was time to go around looking for what we needed, so it would have to do.

Devon had finally come around, his face twisted in pain, and I grabbed his hand when he lifted it. "Thank god you're awake," I said, my voice strangely flat as I helped him stand. He was able to hold himself up, but he was doubled over and holding his side.

"Never been shot before," he grunted. "Must've passed out."

"I thought you were dead."

"Told ya I was immortal." His voice was raspy and thick, stilted.

"Can you walk?" I asked.

He nodded, but I still offered him support as we headed toward the hallway that led to the next flight of stairs.

The others were heaving a barely-conscious Ricky upright. Wolf's blaster was next to Dallas and I propped Devon against the wall to grab it but paused when I heard the most beautiful sound in the world—Wolf's angry roar echoing through the hallways.

Still alive.

My boys were still alive.


	20. Water that Drowns

**Hello, readers!**

**I'm SO VERY SORRY that this took so freaking long to get out. I didn't want it to take 17 days after NaNoWrimo ended to write and edit this, but I don't know what happened! November was rough because I decided to write 100k instead of 50k (I made it!) so it completely consumed me. I didn't have any time for myself or for my husband between writing and work. **

**And it's one of the shorter chapters I've written. :C Sorry about that, too. I haven't gone anywhere, though, and I think there's only like two more chapters (maybe three, I'm not sure) so I'm going to try to end this at least by January, maybe the middle of January. I'm not going to work on anything else BUT this. So, again, I'm really sorry for the wait. I hope you can all forgive me. umu **

**Thanks so much to all you who expressed concern, and special thanks to Citrine for beta'ing this even though she had finals to worry about! You da real MVP girl friend. **

**~Crayola**

**EDIT: I made a few small edits, starting from when Nichole dumped out her bag.**

* * *

Chapter Nineteen

Water that Drowns

"We need to go," Kelly said.

Dallas nodded and picked up Wolf's cannon. I stood my ground as he rose to feet and helped Kelly prop Ricky up. When I didn't move out of his way, he glared at me.

"Move, please."

I held out my hand and demanded, "That's government property, hand it over."

He looked the weapon over and opened his mouth to protest, but Devon interrupted him by saying, "I'd listen to her if I was you." His voice was thick with pain.

The last thing I needed was Devon's help—especially after he'd been shot. I shot him a look.

Which he ignored.

"I'm in. . .no shape to keep her from beating you up," he continued.

For another moment, Dallas looked like he was going to protest. He turned to Kelly as if to seek her help, but she offered him none. I shook my hand impatiently, and he seemed to decide against arguing and held out Wolf's cannon to me.

"Best decision you've made all night," I muttered, putting it away in my bag. I wouldn't be able to figure out how it worked while half-carrying Devon, and part of me thought that Wolf might not be happy if I used it. I didn't know why; it was just a feeling I had. If I thought about it, I realized he probably wouldn't care but I didn't want to take the chance.

It seemed that the only one of us who wasn't in a sour mood was Devon, despite everything. As we made our way down the hall, not one of us tried to talk with each other except him.

As far as I was concerned, we all just happened to be going in the same direction.

I didn't care why.

"Where's Eddie?" Devon asked.

Though it took a moment, Dallas answered. "He decided to go to the center of town and wait for the extraction unit the military said would be there."

Devon cringed against me and I heaved him upright. My sword was held by its magnetic strap on my back so I could use both arms to help Devon. His breath hitched in pain as he was jostled. However, he still said, "So then—I guess you're here because you didn't buy it?"

"That's right," Kelly said. "Do you know what's going on?"

"We _work_ for the government," Devon muttered. "Of course we know."

The two tagalongs scoffed and muttered various versions of "I knew it" in undertones.

"We're hoping there's a helicopter on the roof we can take to escape. We're running out of time, though," Dallas said. "The lieutenant Eddie spoke to said that the extraction was going to be in half an hour, and I don't know how long ago that was."

"If there isn't a helicopter up there, we can all ride with—"

I nudged Devon enough that he had to stop speaking, thought I felt a pang of guilt at intentionally hurting him. "Devon, will you _shut up_ and at least act like you've just been shot?"

He wheezed what I thought was an agreement.

A heavy silence spread across us, and I thought they would press for the rest of what Devon was going to say, but they didn't. It was better they didn't know—not just because it would be Wolf's spaceship. I couldn't guarantee that he would let them on, anyway.

And I wasn't certain I'd even ask him to.

The thin thread that had held together any last remnants of morality had snapped when Ricky shot my partner and attempted to murder Wolf.

"No, not stairs," Devon groaned. "It hurts. . .god damn this fucking _hurts_."

"You've been shot, I can't imagine that sort of thing feels like daisies and rainbows," I huffed, propping him up when he began to slip. "Lose some weight, Jesus."

Devon muttered under his breath, but nothing I could discern.

Kelly, the only one not encumbered by a half-dead person, took point with her weapon up and led us through the halls with her daughter behind her, clinging to her clothes. Dallas and Ricky were behind them, with Devon and I brought up the rear. The bugs guarding the hospital nest had disappeared at the sound of Wolf's angry roar, leaving our trek to the roof uninterrupted.

Rain was still pouring from the sky, drenching us in frigid water within a few moments of being out of cover. Kelly checked left and right and then held the line as Dallas helped his brother climb over some industrial tubes and electric lines.

"Devon, you gotta help a little bit here," I muttered, draping him over what I thought was a water line so I could crawl over first.

He did his best to heave himself further up it, his face twisted in agony, and I pulled him the rest of the way over, supporting him on the way down so he wouldn't collapse. Devon was a real champ the entire time, only whining 50 times.

We had to do the same thing over four more giant power lines before we were finally out in the semi-open, the helicopter within view. The hospital was in the middle of some construction, so there was tarp everywhere and a great many beams and boards littering the ground. In the dark storm, it was almost impossible to navigate safely.

"Let's go, we're almost there!" Kelly shouted, moving back out to the front.

Devon clutched my shirt and pulled himself up, almost pushing me down in the process. "You're coming with us."

"No, _you're_ going with them," I responded. "I have to find Wolf."

Though he was about to argue, Molly interrupted him with a terrified scream. We had entered the chain-link fenced area that led from the helicopter to the proper hospital entrance. A xenomorph was crawling over the top, hissing and snarling.

Another hiss sounded behind us and I whirled around, shoving Devon against the chain link and pulling my sword. Molly continued to shriek, but it was soon drowned out by Kelly opening fire with her rifle. I stepped out of the way and shouldered Devon again, who was now huffing and puffing, trying to keep his pain under control.

"Hold on, Devon," I cooed, keeping my weapon drawn just in case. The xenos were closing in, but that brought me a strange sense of elation.

Wolf was probably near.

"Go, let's get moving!" I shouted over my shoulder.

"Let me go," Devon muttered, trying to wiggle out of my grasp. "I can walk, at least. You need—you need to be able to fight."

Shaking my head I said, "You can barely walk while I'm holding you up."

"I can!"

"Just shut up and keep going."

However, she pulled out of my grip with force. I couldn't hang on to his squirmy ass and try to slash, so I let him go, keeping him in the corner of my eye. He was hobbling, but okay.

The six of us were making slow progress toward the chopper. Ricky was somewhat moving on his own, and I wondered if that was what had prompted Devon to do the same. After all, he wouldn't let himself be outdone by a high school student.

A xenomorph shoved itself against the fence, clawing and trying to break through.

"Ignore the ones at the side," I commanded. "Just push through the front. Kelly, switch places with me and watch our six!"

She yelled back confirmation and we shuffled past each other, all others between us.

I cut down the first xenomorph to show its ugly face and carved a line through the handful of aliens that threatened to overwhelm us. They tried to funnel in, but between my blade and Kelly's bullets, we were able to break out of the bottleneck we'd found ourselves in.

"Sprint for it," I demanded, indicating toward the helicopter.

Kelly and I switched once more so I could stand by Devon's side. Helping them was helping Devon, so I did what I could to make sure they made it to the helicopter.

There were a few close calls, but we sprinted—or limped, in some cases—across the tarmac and up the couple steps to the landing pad. I grabbed Dallas as he passed and pulled him up close, clutching his collar.

"You _keep Devon_ on that bird, you got me?" I hissed through clenched teeth.

"What do you mean?" he had to raise his voice over the rain.

"Exactly what I said. I have to go, and he's going to try to follow me. But _you_ have to keep him on board and _leave_. Do not wait for me and just go!" I demanded.

He searched my face for some answers before giving up and asking. "And where are you going?"

"I have to find the big guy," I said, turning to leave.

But Devon called after me. "Hey! Hey, don't let her go! Nichole, you get your ass back here!"

I stopped long enough to see Dallas meet Devon on the landing pad and grab him. Devon struggled, but wound up nearly collapsing. I hesitated, torn between going with him and looking for Wolf, but Devon was fine. He was going to be fine.

In a few minutes, he'd be on a helicopter on its way out of the city.

That wasn't something I could say for Wolf.

"Devon, go with them! I'll be fine," I assured him.

"Like hell you will," he growled, still fighting against Dallas. But between his injury and Dallas' better position, he was soon stuffed into the helicopter.

When it became obvious he wouldn't be able to fight, he gave in but kept shouting, even though it winded and put excess strain on his chest. "Don't you _dare_ leave without saying good-bye! Don't you _fucking dare_!"

"Bye, Devon," I said. Though he wouldn't be able to hear me, it was obvious from his reaction that he had read my lips.

His eyes widened and he renewed his vigorous, but losing, battle with Dallas.

"Nichole? Nichole! NICHOLE!" He doubled over after that, and Dallas was able to shove him inside and close the door.

It felt like a small animal was burrowing into my stomach. I took a deep breath, muttered an apology, then turned away. I wanted to stand and watch, to make sure that they left with Devon in tow, but I couldn't wait. I had to leave. So, I bolted further along the roof to see if I could find Wolf.

Behind me, the helicopter came to life.

Relief. They were out of my hair, Devon was going to be okay, and I was free to do as I pleased and find Wolf. I had no one else to worry about or hold me back.

My water-logged clothes clung uncomfortably to my body and weighed me down. The rain flooded my vision and I had to continuously wipe droplets from my eyelashes and push my sopping wet hair out of my face.

The aliens were drawn to the helicopter, though. I only ran into a few that I had to cut down—until they realized that I was alone. Until the last of the gunfire from Kelly ended and the helicopter was successful airborne. I stopped long enough to see it rise off its landing pad and dip away into the night, soon consumed by the rain.

And then they started to appear, clambering over catwalks and their shadows flitting through the semi-clear tarps littered about.

On high-alert, I slashed through the carapace of a warrior coming from my left, dodging around the pieces that slid toward me. At least with the rain I could hope for diluted acid blood. Maybe I wouldn't lose a limb if I was splashed.

"Wolf!" I shouted, ducking underneath some framework.

There was a reprieve from the deluge, but then I was back to being drenched.

I called for Wolf again, but I wasn't really sure where I was going. My plan had been to get back into the hospital and track down my alien knight. The xenos, however, were coming up from inside, venturing away from a nest that no longer needed protecting.

A most annoying coincidence, as they were coming up from the hospital while I was attempting to go down, but it was still irritating.

Guess I'd have to wait for Wolf to come to me.

It alarmed me how certain I was that he would. At some point, I was going to have to rely on myself and not on him.

Three drones clambered over the edge of a wall and snarled down at me. I backed up while watching them closely, gauging whether or not they were going to strike. They crawled down the sides, tails lashing, and then a snarl came from my side.

Though I swung at the sound, it quickly retreated with a high-pitched whine.

One moved too close to me and I took a wild slash at it, only to have the thing follow the first one backward and it screeched at me.

We continued this dance across the roof. They'd move in as if to attack, I'd counter, and they'd withdraw. I found myself shouting and cursing at them, trying to bait them into making a commitment, but they did no such thing.

Not for one minute did I believe they were _afraid_ of me. Why not swarm? Why not charge? My attacks became sloppier as I grew frustrated.

Out of habit or instinct or desperation, I opened my mouth to call once more for Wolf. Not to find him, but to draw him over so he could help me. I was at a loss for what to do against more than a couple of these awful creatures, let alone when they acted this strange.

But I shut my mouth and swallowed my voice.

No matter what, I wasn't going to call for him. I was going to deal with this all on my own.

I maneuvered myself until I was backed against a wall—or a divider of some sort. They started to surround me, lips drawn back and tails arched over their backs.

Slowly, with painstaking steps, they approached.

With nowhere else to go, there was only one option left to me. I took a few deep breaths. My fingers tightened on the hilt of my sword. I wasn't going to sit and wait for whatever they had planned. Wait for them to come at me instead.

Well, I wasn't going stand for it. I was going to go to _them_.

Raising my blade high, I released the breath I was holding and charged.

My enemies screeched and swayed, surprised by my sudden display, and then the floor beneath them erupted into a spray of mortar and drywall. Dust and dirt exploded outward and I stumbled back in surprise, nearly falling before I could pull myself back up.

They were sent scattering, screeching and growling, and Wolf jumped up from the hole he'd made, guns blazing and ready for a fight. So to speak, anyway, seeing how I had his gun.

"Wolf!" I gasped, scrambling toward him.

He turned to face me, then whipped around when the xenos finally recovered and swarmed him. My first instinct was to get him his weapon, but it would be impossible while he was fending off an attack from all sides.

For now, we'd have to make due until an opening presented itself.

Seeing him alive and well filled me with determination. A sound caught my attention and I spun around to find a xeno from over the wall leaping down at me. I swung and ducked at the same time, throwing myself into a roll as the now-armless alien slammed down where I had been.

Undeterred, it stood back up and came at me again. I braced myself for a fight, and then a thick whip wrapped around its head and yanked it back.

"Hey," I snapped at Wolf, "that one was mine!"

Wolf dragged the screeching drone toward him and kept his gaze fastened on me, then crushed the thing's skull under his boot.

I rolled my eyes and pointed at him with my blade. "This is _not_ the time to be cheeky!"

He chuffed and then pivoted on his heels, slashing at a pouncing drone with his whip and driving it back. It squealed and retreated behind a power box.

"Did you call the ship?" I asked, marching toward him. "We need to _go_."

I watched over my shoulder, listening to Wolf's affirmation. I half expected to see Devon hobbling after me from around some corner like the misguided stray dog he was, but there was nothing. The chopper was gone, and so was he.

Still, I wouldn't have put it past him.

To Wolf, I asked, "Is there anyone up here with us? Human?"

For a moment he stared at me with his head tilted as if he didn't believe me, but I continued to stare at him with the same expression and resolve. He snorted and jumped up on the divider I'd been backed against, scanning the area. I faced away from him and remained alert, in case more drones came back for round two.

The hole Wolf had punched his way out of crumbled and I jumped, then let out my breath.

Just a fucking rock.

When Wolf called down to me, I turned to play charades with him. I barely had my mouth open to ask before he snapped back around to field a pair of drones that blind-sided him.

I started to run, to find my way around the barrier in my way to go to Wolf, but a noise came from the hole again. It drew me to pause long enough for another giant mass of muscle and an added seventy pounds of hate to spring out at me.

It hit me hard and fast in the abdomen, driving all the air out of my lungs and throwing me back against the wall. Pain lanced up my spine and I arched my back, wheezing out a pained cough.

There was no time to recover. Just enough time to look up and see the Hybrid lunge.

My arm was up, blade turned, but my reactions were sluggish and ungainly; the Hybrid backhanded my arms, disarming me and maybe fracturing my hand. She shoved me back against the wall as if trying to push me all the way through the thing. I kicked—and then she was wrenched off me and thrown several feet away.

For one confused second I thought I'd somehow come into superhuman strength, but of course that wasn't it.

Wolf had her by the throat, his whip drawn taught as he yanked her back. This was perhaps my only chance. Wiggling my bag off my shoulders, I tore it open—almost literally—and dumped the contents all out on the wet ground. Wolf computer, a bunch of random shit I'd forgot was in there, and the cannon I'd been holding on to. I picked that up, first and foremost, and left the rest on the ground.

Then, I dropped to my hands and knees and groped around the wet rooftop until my fingers touched metal. Wolf's fight devolved into a fist fight when the Hybrid had finally ripped the whip right out of his hand. I picked up my weapon by the blade before grabbing the hilt and standing.

Two against one. The odds were in our favor and now was my chance to earn my keep while I was at Wolf's side.

Though I still couldn't catch my breath, I worked through the pain and half-choking to steady myself. I straightened despite the severe ache in my chest and stomach. I held my weapon tight despite the crippling pain in my hand. I ran toward the fight, determined to help.

After Wolf dodge-rolled to put some distance between him and the Hybrid, I had even more running to do and my legs were on fire. The Hybrid turned her head as if to look at me, then slipped away before I could catch up, disappearing into the sheet rain and electric boxes before Wolf could stand up straight.

I stopped next to him, our backs to each other.

Without looking at him, I held up his cannon and said, "You dropped this."

He took it from me, growling his appreciation.

"Where are you, bitch?" I muttered, scanning the darkness. There was minimum light filtering through the rain, and water obscured my vision, but I tried my best.

Behind me, Wolf growled what I could only assume was a similar sentiment.

"You know where she gets this shit from, right?" I huffed at Wolf, referencing the hybrid's tendency to disappear into thin air. He chittered in exasperation and I said, "Yeah, from you all!"

It was probably too soon to be making light of the fallen predator, but I was irritated.

True to her nature, the Hybrid dropped from a scaffolding above and shoved Wolf across the roof. He skidded several yards, leaving me alone with the Hybrid. Within the same swift movement, she once again disarmed me with a powerful strike and pounced like a wildcat, driving me to the ground and landing on my chest.

There was enough time for me to draw in a single breath. Enough time for me to move my hands up, but none of that helped.

None of it kept her off of me.

None of it stopped her from forcing herself through my defenses, lighting my throat aflame and gagging me. I couldn't see, I couldn't breathe, and I couldn't think. The strength seeped from my limbs as everything fell apart. I kicked weakly, I clawed.

Then I swallowed.


	21. Rather Sink

**Hello, readers!**

**It's Christmas at my house, so Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! This is my present to all of you wonderful people: the LAST TWO INSTALLMENTS OF NIGHTMARE! You heard right, folks. The end is nigh. I hope I'm leaving you all with some good chapters. **

**So, here's chapter twenty, and the epilogue should follow in a few minutes.**

**See you on the other side.**

**~Crayola**

* * *

Chapter Twenty

Rather Sink

I wanted to scream, scream until I could no more. Scream until everything else went away and it was just me and the void.

But I couldn't. I couldn't do anything but _keep—swallowing._

Or choke. I should have let myself choke but damn it all, my body wouldn't let me. It fought to take the burden being forced upon me.

And I wagered the Hybrid wasn't going to give me a choice, either.

Thoughts fuzzy and lungs burning, the strength was draining from me. My will to live was failing quick. The Hybrid lacked that which the facehuggers had to keep me from suffocating. Milliseconds became hours—and then everything stopped.

The Hybrid went rigid. Her tusks dug into the back of my scalp, then suddenly released and she threw herself off of me with a shriek. A cloying, coppery taste filled my mouth as the intrusion left.

Then, for the first time in what seemed like days, I took a deep, gasping breath.

Coughs racked my body and I rolled once over the gravel-covered, soaking rooftop until I was on my stomach, hacking up my own blood. I clawed at my chest with one hand, the other busy keeping me from being completely face down. Nausea swept over me and I dry-heaved a couple times, trying to crawl away from the awful alien stamping her feet next to me.

_Two._

I couldn't wrap my head around it. I should have been glad it wasn't as many as I'd seen with the waitress, but was that really anything to be glad for?

_One_ was too many.

Somehow, through the physical weakness and disgust, I managed to flip myself over and spotted Wolf grappling with the Hybrid. He had his blades wrist-deep in her back, trying to drag her away from me, but she had dug her heels in and refused to leave, keeping a safe distance all the same.

She had chosen letting go over dousing me with her blood and killing the _things _now inside me.

Desperately, I wished she hadn't. I couldn't even be mad at Wolf for taking the risk.

With a solid kick to her back, he sent her stumbling forward a step or two, ripping his blades from where they nested by her spine. Before she could turn on him, he held up his plasma cannon. He didn't mince words or savor the moment. One second she was whirling around to attack, and in the next one, Wolf had blasted a basketball-sized hole in her head.

Her body remained upright for a few prolonged seconds, but Wolf left her to fall and strode toward me, each pace filled with purpose.

Suddenly, I was terrified of him. I kept my eyes on his wrist blades. All I could see was him running me through with them; putting me out of my misery. Like he had those on the ship. The men and women stuck to the walls, incubating their own personal demon.

Like I know was.

However, when he neared, the blades slid away into his gauntlet. So it wasn't his intent at the moment, but I had to consider that it would be soon.

As he kneeled by my side, the weight and realization of what had just happened hit me like a truck. I sat up and grabbed my chest, rifling through my clothes until I could scratch at my skin, determined to dig into my own chest and abdomen to rip the parasites out myself.

Held-back sobs clogged my throat. Wolf grabbed my hands to stop me from inflicting more wounds on myself and hooked his arm around me.

I hadn't noticed, but now that he was so close, I realized that was missing his mask.

Likely dislodged in the fight with the Hybrid.

Water pooled around me where I was stretched out, partially held up by Wolf's strong, scaly arms. Though I attempted to scramble away from the black carcass next to me, my feet only slipped in the water and Wolf was an unmovable wall, keeping me in place.

Part of me was still wary of him. Wary and hopeful. If anyone would keep me from suffering undue discomfort, it would be him.

But was I ready? Was I ready to—to—_die_?

"No, no, no! No no no no!"

Panic squeezed my heart like a python, constricting my ribcage and making my stomach churn. I gasped and clawed at my abdomen with one hand, the other scraping around to find Wolf's arm in an attempt to pull myself upright. My mouth worked like a fish out of water and I fought to ignore the taste of bile and blood at the back of my throat.

All I could think about was Jess, curled up on the floor as one of those monsters chewed through her sternum. Of the soldier who helped me escape, bucking and seizing on the wall. All the blood—pain making their faces twist—the sound of them taking their last breaths—the squealing—crunching—

That was going to be me. _That was going to be me._

_What do we do?_

It took me several excruciating heartbeats to realize I hadn't vocalized the thought. My jaw bobbed and for another brief spell, I only managed a strangled sound before I found my voice at last.

_"_What do we do?"

In the end I wished I hadn't spoken: my voice was shrill and hoarse in my ears, slicing through the sound of rain pelting around us. Through the downpour and darkness, I could barely make out Wolf's features, but it was his heat that drew me in, the strength that he promised.

My nails dug at the fleshy part of Wolf's bicep. He inclined his head toward me, his mandibles pressed tight over his mouth. His brow was furrowed, his muscles tense and coiled. Vibrant green blood mixed with the rain and I remembered: he was hurt, too. Had been for a long while, through hell and high water. Yet, he hadn't once complained or let it slow him down.

And what of me? Hyperventilating and on the verge of a complete hysteric breakdown while sitting in a cold puddle. The panic was binding my breath, growing and growing, ready to boil over.

I had to get a hold of myself.

I couldn't show my fear.

But dread had sunk its fangs into me. It tore at my insides and drew fresh tears to my eyes. Ah, the rain was a blessing in disguise as it concealed my open weeping. It was fear that shortened my breath and clouded my thoughts.

Wolf didn't show such emotions. Never once since I'd met him. Why couldn't I be like that? Why couldn't I just calm down?

Every part of me not entrenched in terror was revolted at how _human_ I was.

At last, Wolf made a move; he growled and swept me up into his arms. I held tight to his shoulder, choking back sobs and gripping the front of my shirt with one hand. My eyes scanned his face, looking for some kind of answer. There was nothing there, nothing that I could read, anyway. His expressions were too foreign. Was his mandibles pressed in anger or concern?

"You have to help me, you have to do something!" Hysteria won and the words tumbled forth uninhibited. My throat burned and made my voice thick. Each syllable was a kick in the teeth, each breath drawn was a betrayal to myself, to the strength I wished I had.

The rain poured without relent as he moved me to the edge of the roof. I wished the weather would swallow me whole or tear me apart. Anything would be better than _this. _

Once he reached the edge of the roof, the ship's clock was dispelled and it shimmered into visible light. It spun around, the door opened, and Wolf leaped across the small three-foot gap inside. He let me down while the ship closed off and headed away from the building—it vibrated and shifted, making me lose my balance. I tried to hold on to him so I wouldn't lose my pillar, my rock, but he pulled away with a gentle command.

"Wait—wait. Wolf. . . ."

He put his hand up to tell me to stay, but I didn't want to.

I didn't want to be alone.

I wanted nothing more than to follow him, but my legs wouldn't move. They were planted by the entrance, frozen as I was; a deer in headlights.

I'd forgotten how _hot_ the ships they used were—his kind. The heat had already chased away the chill from the rain, but I couldn't stop shaking. My hand was permanently balled into a fist, gripping the front of my jacket and shirt until my knuckles turned white. My other hand still hurt from the Hybrid smacking it. Jury was still out on any fractures.

It was hard for me to figure out what was worse, the things inside me or what was going to come next.

Not the—god help me—the _birthing_ but what Wolf had to do.

Wolf hadn't done it on the roof, but that was the only way now, wasn't it?

That had been the only way for Carrie. The only option I'd given her. Her unborn child—I'd ended it and now that was what was coming to me.

It might have been easier if he'd left me on the rooftop to die by nuke. He couldn't have brought me aboard for something as simple as a mercy killing. Maybe his honor wouldn't let him cut me down without me putting up a fight. Maybe he meant to have me battle him and lose in a dignified battle to the death or whatever.

There was no way. I could barely make my legs work as it was to take a simple step.

Despite the obvious, the thought made me realize that I had left behind my weapon. The Hybrid had knocked it from my grasp, and then—and then I'd forgotten all about it. I'd left so much behind already. The blade, Wolf's computer, my things and. . . .

And Devon. Oh god, why wasn't he here? Why had I sent him away? He would have made me feel better. He would have talked me through this, offered me some inane platitudes.

They might have worked, though, however inane.

That man always knew how to make me feel better. And I really, _really_ needed to feel better.

Finally, through sheer force of will, I managed to make my legs to work and I marched through the semi-darkness in the direction he'd gone. My steps where halting and jerky, but I could move.

Before I could do much else, the ship lurched and I was thrown against one of the walls. Over the various sounds of the moving ship, I could hear the faint concussion of an explosion and my heart almost stopped altogether. The town—all those people. Men, women, children. . . . Gone. And. . . .

Devon.

Between everything that had happened, I hadn't gotten the chance to confirm with Wolf that no one else was on the roof.

That Devon had made it to safety.

It filled me with a bit more strength and resolve. More confidence to maneuver around and find out where Wolf had disappeared to.

His ship was much smaller than the one I'd been trapped on for a whole night. Still, it was bigger than the jet we'd taken to Colorado Springs and the helicopter to Gunnison combined. It was simple to navigate, though—a single hallway that led deeper inside.

To a door.

That I didn't know how to open.

"Wolf!" I shouted, pounding on the door with my free hand. If it hadn't been so hard to make my legs function in the first place, I would have kicked it, too. "Wolf, Wolf! You have to find that helicopter! I have to. . .I have to see him. I have to make sure Devon's okay and I have to—tell him."

The wall to my left whirred and opened up into another hallway. I hadn't even realized there was a door there. I jumped and almost let go of my chest.

For a moment I stared at the door like it was a snake about to strike. After a moment's hesitation, I started to enter, but Wolf strode into view and I stopped. He had donned a new mask, and it made me realize an important thing: I could _breathe _the air on his ship. I hadn't had a single issue since coming aboard.

This whole time I'd thought he'd been plotting a course, steering the ship in some direction but he'd been making the ship livable for me. Well, he was probably doing the latter, too. Since there was a nuke to avoid and all that.

"Please," I implored once the wave of sentimental feelings had passed. "I need to know. I need _him_ to know. I need—I need—"

I wondered if he could see my tears with his particular sight requirements.

Wolf cocked his head to the side and regarded me for a moment, then left the doorway with swift strides and grabbed my arm, dragging me back through the ship. I tried to protest, but the wind was gone from my sails.

"What are we going to do?" I asked meekly.

He led me through another set of doors and into a small room with nothing but a handful of canisters that looked large enough to fit a large man in—or, perhaps, a Wolf-sized man. Wolf had been muttering and clicking to himself the entire walk over.

Maybe he'd been trying to talk to me. I hadn't been paying much attention: my mind was a million miles away, stuck trying to figure out what had become of Devon. Wondering if Wolf was going to let me find out. Let me see him, let me talk to him one last time as my dying wish. He'd made it plain that he didn't approve of him.

But if he was okay—if he was somewhere and _okay_—then he needed to know how _not okay_ I was. He'd spend the entire rest of his life wondering, thinking that I was somewhere I wasn't.

Thinking that I might come to my senses and come home.

Devon needed to know that now I was _never_. . .coming home.

I appraised the strange capsules with reservation and looked up at Wolf. "What is this for?" I asked him. They didn't look like some sort of magical surgery machines, and I had a hard time believing he'd have one. He didn't seem like the doctor type.

Ignoring me, he popped open the glass cover and then waited expectantly.

Brow furrowed, I could only muster confusion. "What?"

He growled in exasperation and shoved me inside. I let out an undignified squawk and shifted around to find him replacing the glass top over me. A new wave of fear threatened to knock me down and I finally let go of my clothes to press my palms against the case.

"Wolf! Wolf, what's going on? What are you doing?" I demanded, slapping the barrier only to recoil my injured hand. However, the lock had snapped into place and it wouldn't budge.

Wolf moved his fingers across the glass as if he was typing. I couldn't see the display, so I figured that it was only in a spectrum he could see. So, I pushed my good hand against the glass, hoping that the heat from my palm would disrupt his work long enough at I could get some answers.

"What are you _doing_?"

However, my attempts didn't seem to delay anything he was doing.

At last, when he turned his attention to me, he spoke. His English was broken and rough, but I could make out the word nonetheless.

"Sleep," he told me.

My eyes widened and I renewed my efforts to break free, but I couldn't manage the strength to do more than beat weakly at the glass. "No, no Wolf—I need to see Devon! I need, I need some time! Just a little bit of time! I have, I have to make some calls, I have to. . .I have to. . . ."

There was so much that I still had to do. That I wanted to do. This wasn't how I'd wanted, how I'd imagined, my departure would go.

He put in one last command before taking a step back. I tried again to push open the capsule, but it wouldn't budge. I was mostly doing it out of desperation than any real belief of success. I gasped when my cage started to move, bracing myself against the sides, though there wasn't a whole lot of space to bounce around in.

More than ever I found our language barrier obnoxious. I just wanted to know what he was doing. What his plan was. What this stupid thing was that he'd put me in.

Why it was moving.

While he was still listening, still facing me, I spewed out all the words I could think of. Anything that I wanted to say.

"Please! I have to tell Devon I'm sorry. I have to tell him what happened. He needs to know what to tell my mom! Don't let them think I'm dead, please, _please_! Please, even if I am, I need them to know I'm okay, that I'm fine."

Head cocked, Wolf watched me. I could have screamed at him if I wasn't so busy babbling.

The thing I was in was raised off the ground by what I could only assume was a machine I couldn't see from inside. The wall swallowed me up and I was left in the dark, pleading for answers or promises and receiving neither. My voice became flat: it was hitting the wall and stopping.

I was no longer being heard.

The capsule—which I was certain was actually a cell—was slanted back so I wasn't quite standing but nor was I lying back. It was solid and unyielding, as if comfort hadn't even been considered in the design. In my attempts to find a release inside, I was certain I felt restraints.

Whatever this was, it was meant to keep someone inside.

To keep someone prisoner.

In my frustration, I managed to smack the back of my head against the wall. How was I supposed to sleep in this dumb thing? How was sleeping supposed to help anything at all? I wasn't going to wake up and be fine.

After a moment, the answer came. I became aware of a faint hissing sound from all around. I labored to breathe, but after an adjustment period it was easier.

He was going to _drug me_.

So this was what he'd meant when he'd told me to sleep. He was going to _put_ me to sleep. In a portable jail cell. Where he could maybe monitor my health and status. But how asleep was I going to be? Comatose? Suspended animation? Was that even a real thing?

Any scenario I could come up with brought me to the same conclusion.

We were leaving Earth behind. I wasn't going to get any good-byes. I wasn't going to be able to make sure that Devon was okay. He was never going to know if I was okay. My mother wasn't ever going to hear my voice again, or I hers. I was just going to disappear, assumed dead.

My lip quivered and I turned on my side, wrapping my arms around myself. I couldn't quite curl up into a ball, but I had just enough room to double over.

Now that he couldn't hear me, now that he couldn't see me, I let loose.

Not even the sedative being pumped into my capsule could quell the sobs making me quake. The effects had been downplayed quite a bit when Wolf had made the change to keep from killing me with the wrong dose, but it was starting to set in.

I should have called my mom a little more often.

I should have tried to call her when I knew I was going on this suicide mission. In my heart, I knew I wouldn't have been able to meet her again, but. . . .

Just to hear her voice one more time.

Tell her one more time that I loved her. Hear her tell me she loved me.

It had all been planned in my head. After we'd successfully eradicated the remaining bugs, I was going to say. . .something, anything, to Devon. I hadn't really thought that part through. In my perfect world, he and Wolf would have been getting along fine and we could have all—laughed about the whole situation together.

Then I would have called my mom. I still hadn't hashed out my speeches, but I was going to improvise something.

But it would have worked out.

All my loose ends tied up. All my worries and fears cast aside. I could have followed Wolf on his ship with nothing holding me back. The future would have been waiting, warm and welcoming and everything would have been. . .fine.

Fine.

Because this was what I'd wanted.

. . .what I'd _told_ myself I wanted.

The Hybrid had ruined it all. The government had ruined it all, with their "nuke the site from orbit" mentality. Everything had fallen apart. There were too many loose ends. Too many regrets. Too much had gone wrong.

And the future was now cold and rigid. I wasn't ready to leave yet. I wasn't ready to disappear off the face of the planet.

My thoughts started to turn to static. I'd exhausted all my energy into crying, and the sedative had free reign of my systems now. Though I wasn't quite suffocating, I could tell that Wolf had upped the dosage when I hadn't immediately passed out: the air was thick and tasted of something strange and sterile.

Well, I was done fighting. I was done trying to be strong. I wanted this last moment of weakness, this last moment of emotional upheaval.

At least while I slept, I wouldn't have that nightmare anymore.

Though it wasn't just a dream anymore. How many times had I woken up to some horrible dream that I was giving birth to a chestburster? All those nights spent trying to forget about them, trying to convince myself that it wouldn't ever happen.

Now. . .now. . . .

I dug my fingers into my chest again, though the gesture lacked power. My muscles were relaxing, my mind fading.

Fine.

Let oblivion come.

Maybe I'd be lucky and it would never let me go.

After taking a few more deep breaths of the sedatives swirling around in my own personal womb, oblivion came—and for a long, _long_ time, I was gone. Swaddled in darkness, cradled by the void, and finally, temporarily, for the first time in many years. . . .

I was free.


	22. Epilogue

Epilogue

The furs were soft. The room was warm. The bed was comfortable.

Or at least, I was sure it was _supposed_ to be. As it was, I could have been on the universe's most luxurious mattress and I still would have been miserable and full of pain.

When I considered the alternative, I knew I shouldn't be complaining about anything. But I hadn't left Wolf's bed since he'd put me there. Moving only made everything worse. Nothing I was fed would stay down unless it was a liquid. All I could do was sleep in fits and starts and lie on my side curled in the fetal position.

Every last part of me _hurt_.

Mostly it was my abdomen, but my legs weren't up to snuff either. There were minimal surgical marks, but a myriad of bruises littered the operation sites.

Pain killers would have been nice but these people were of the belief that pain was weakness leaving the body. I wished sometimes that I was back in that cell and on ice, but I didn't think I was even on his ship anymore. It didn't feel like we were moving.

Then again, it sometimes felt like the whole room was spinning.

I wasn't aware of all the details. I hadn't seen or heard from a single recognizable alien since Wolf had brought me home like a stray dog. From what I had gathered from his attempts to communicate, and from the state I was in, was that they had operated. Or tried to. For the most part, they'd succeeded: I could tell because I wasn't _dead. _Even if I felt like I'd have been better off.

But it was clear to me they hadn't quite known what they were doing.

Or just didn't care enough to put in their best effort.

Why would they? I was only human.

In fact, I hadn't even seen another predator since Wolf had left. Every now and again I was visited by a strange mantoid alien with four arms and bright eyes and seal-like skin the color of decaying leaves. They freaked me out, but I wasn't in any condition to keep them from doing their thing. Which was feed me and help me walk to and from the facilities, which had taken some getting used to.

They made me walk, made me move. Probably to keep my muscles from wasting away.

Still, I hated them for it.

There wasn't even any way for me to know how long it had been. The weird mantis-things occasionally opened up what I assumed was a window to let in some light, so I kept time that way. I had to wager a guess around four days since he'd plopped me in this bed.

Who knew how long those days were, though.

My time outside of bathroom breaks was spent nearly catatonic. I'd fucked everything up. This wasn't how any of this was supposed to work. I should have been. . .out, killing things with Wolf.

Yet, here I was—moping in the dark. Lamenting my lot in life. Whimpering quietly when I shifted the wrong way and exacerbated the healing internal damage. The highlights of those four days was when Wolf finally deigned to return. I hadn't seen him since he'd dropped me off.

He probably had better things to do than oversee my rehabilitation.

I only knew it was him entering because the footsteps were all wrong. The mantids were graceful and quiet and Wolf's were heavier, like he wasn't trying to tip-toe around me. Though I refused to turn to look at him, I knew it was him. Why would some random associate come to see _me_?

He chittered something at me, but I didn't move. Didn't respond. Didn't think I deserved to be seen by him until I was back at a hundred percent.

When I wasn't so _mad_ at myself.

_"Where's Nichole?"_

That voice. I stirred, pushing myself up on my palms enough to rotate away from the wall.

_"Why isn't she with you?"_

Wolf was a few paces away, looking down at me with his head cocked. He was wearing his mask, as the room was set to my comfort. The mantids seemed to be fine in either atmosphere.

The voice spurred me to sit up, hurt though it did, as Wolf replayed another recording.

_"Is she okay?"_

After a few failed first attempts where my mouth bobbed like a fish's, I spoke. "You saw Devon?" My voice wouldn't scale above a whisper, and it made my throat ache.

_"Tell him I'm sorry. I need them to know I'm okay, that I'm fine." _My voice, from inside the cell.

_"Who's 'them'?" _Devon's, again.

_"He needs to know what to tell my mom!"_

How much I wanted to see his face, to see firsthand how that conversation had gone. What I would've given to have the conversation with him myself. My arms were heavy as I lifted them to press my hands against my head, as if I could squeeze hard enough to keep the tears from falling down my cheeks and betraying me again.

All this time I'd spent in bitter reprieve over my mistakes, marinating in my rancor, Wolf had been out delivering my message because I couldn't. At this point, it was better I hadn't gone. I might not have left. Wolf would have had to kidnap me again.

He'd done so much for me. I didn't deserve any of it. I'd made him wait five years and inserted a third wheel into our reunion. I'd complained, I'd inconvenienced him I'd. . .I'd become this hollow shell of what he'd seen in that crashed ship. From the moment he'd pulled the Hybrid off of me, I'd been a blubbering mass of fear.

And now I was a broken mess. A bruised, barely-recovering burden in his bed.

"Why?" I asked aloud. "Why are you doing all this for me?"

Wolf regarded me for a moment, then played more of the recording from his time with Devon. _"You take care of her, you hear me? I don't care if I have to build a rocket ship myself, I'll find you and I'll kick your ass if you don't!"_

If it wouldn't have hurt so much, I might have laughed.

_"You'll watch out for her?"_

Wolf straightened and nodded his head once, for my benefit. It was probably the same thing he'd done in front Devon. It didn't answer the why, but it still hit me hard. I didn't deserve this strange kindness from him. He seemed to think I was something that I wasn't.

Swallowing hard, gritting my teeth against the pain it caused, I made up my mind. I didn't deserve his generosity. Not anymore.

Not yet.

But I would. I was going to make sure of it.

* * *

**Hello, readers!**

**Putting this at the end so you could all continue from Ch. 20 to the epilogue without an interruption. But, here we are. The end of Nightmare. A bittersweet feeling for sure, with Nichole down at her lowest point yet. With everything wrapped up, please let me know what you think! I'm hoping to start on a few quality of life revisions eventually, so any input or criticism you have would be appreciated on the story as a whole. :) **

**And please, let me know if you think the epilogue is fine as is or if I should have left it with chapter twenty! I was trying not to completely undermine the tone I'd left twenty hanging on, but also give a smidgen of closure at the same time, as well as a taste for what might be to come in the THIRD INSTALLMENT! Yes, you saw that right, there will be a third story in Nichole's journey! I'm gonna need some time to overhaul what I have so far, though, because when I originally wrote Insomnia, Nichole was a completely different person in a completely different situation. So, I'm not sure when I'll actually start publishing chapters for the next story. **

**She's been through so much more hell than she had been in the original (re: ****shitty) drafts of this adventure. Ah well, it's for the best. She's too hard on herself, really. Anyway, YEAH. I would REALLY love to hear from you guys! What would you like to see in the next story? Where do you think it's going to go from here? What could I have done better? I'm going to finish the Phantasm edits, maybe revisit Vespertine, and then I'll try to pump out some one-shots for you guys! So let me know what kind of one-shots you'd like to read. :)**

**And, thank you all so much for sticking with me for all this time. I wasn't expecting it to take this long to write the new and improved Nightmare, but life got in the way and I didn't really have the discipline. Hopefully, I won't take so long to update and write in the future. While you're waiting for me to update, definitely check out Citrine Nebulae's Alkaline! She was an amazing beta for me and her story is a fun read! Go show her some love :)**

**Hearts to all of you! **

**~ Crayola**


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